


command me to be well

by liese_l



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: BDSM, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Dissociation, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Slow Burn, what are tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:26:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4673525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liese_l/pseuds/liese_l
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ariana Trevelyan is small and unassuming. Nervous and flighty. The Iron Bull is none of these things. But everyone has cracks. Everyone has things to hide. Leader or spy, everyone eventually breaks.</p><p>(Now with ART!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sparrow

(Art by [Ruevian](http://ruevian.tumblr.com/post/136135246358/and-now-i-can-post-this-which-is-my-secret-santa))

 

Ariana Trevelyan was like a sparrow, Bull had decided. She was always flitting around Haven like if she stayed still for even a moment, she'd die. She couldn't even stay still during a conversation; she'd be worrying at her lip, flittering her fingers, rocking back and forth on her heels. She was tiny, too. Skinny like a beanpole, and shorter than you'd expect an adult human to be. The two scalp-hugging braids that she kept her hair in almost looked like they were heavy enough to weigh her down, even though they lightly swung around her when she walked.

When she'd first shown up on that rainy beach on the Storm Coast, he'd thought she'd been an elf. And then when she'd introduced herself as the Herald, he thought it had to be a joke. She looked like she'd break if you bumped against her in the wrong way. Then again, she had made the Vints explode into flames and shatter into chunks of gory ice, so that was at least a point in her favour.

She was like a sparrow in battle, too. Nervous, always darting out of the way of real danger, only getting in close when it was safe. But her spells; man, they were powerful. Bull'd never particularly wanted to see a guy cook from the inside, but it seemed like no armor could stop one of Ariana's lightning bolts. She was tiny, flighty, bold, and one of the best damn mages he'd ever seen.

(He'd feel bad about thinking that, but then Dalish would’ve just reminded him that she was an archer, anyway.)

For reasons Bull didn’t quite understand, she'd decided that she liked him. Not that Bull didn't try to be a likeable guy, but when she'd first met him, he'd seen fear written all over her face and body. She'd tried to hide it, of course, like anyone trying to be a good diplomat would, but he'd seen it in the way she shrunk away from him, from how stiffly she held her body, from how she barely looked him in the eye.

It wasn't until they were all on their way back to Haven that she suddenly spoke to him, and he soon discovered that once she started talking, it was very hard to get her to stop.

"You know, I've never met a Qunari before," she suddenly said, bringing her horse up next to him.

"Most folks haven't," he'd replied, giving her a sideways glance.

"I think my favourite thing about all of this is that I get to meet so many different people. It was always the same faces in the Circle. I mean, there were always new apprentices coming in, but… It was pretty much the same, all around. Ferelden humans. Orlesians, sometimes. And elves, of course. That was it."

That made him raise his eyebrow. "So you're a Circle mage, huh?"  


"Yeah. Well, I was one, I guess. The Circles don't exist anymore now, do they? Everyone's an apostate! Although that word has little meaning now that everyone is one."

"Hmm, that's true. Did you like living in the Circle?"

"I did. That's a bit blasphemous, isn't it? No one's supposed to have liked the Circles. Well, if you lived in a place like Kirkwall, I can't blame you! But they weren't all like that. Ostwick wasn't too bad, but no one likes being locked up, even if you get a comfy bed and food and an education. Well, I liked it, but again, I'm a blasphemer in all areas, it seems. I liked the safety and routine. I liked knowing that the Templars were keeping me safe from demons and possessed mages. They scared me a bit, and you would hear rumours of… things, but… I never got hurt. I liked it. I was allowed to study magic in peace, surrounded by other mages who understood. Anyway, I was there since I was a kid, so I don't really know any other way of living. But… the outside world is nice, too. If you ignore the hole in the sky and the demons and bandits and crazy people who want to murder you for seemingly no reason."

Bull chuckled. "Yeah, it's sure different to being locked up in your cozy tower."

"I never had to kill anyone in the Circle, either," she said, before falling silent.

Bull grunted. "Well, you do a damn fine job of it."

"I'm not entirely sure I want to be complimented on my ability to murder people, but thank you anyway."

"Hey," Bull said, dropping his voice low. Ariana looked at him, their eyes level with her on her horse. "Look, sometimes, people want to kill you. And you've got no choice but to try to kill them back. It's you or them. And nearly everyone is going to choose themselves. You're probably the only person who can stop the entire world from going to shit, and if you let yourself get killed, then you'll have far, far more blood on your hands than a few bandits or Vints or crazy people. So yeah, killing people, it sucks. But you dying would suck even more, for everyone."

Ariana stared at him stunned for a moment, and then looked down at her hands grasping her horse's reins.

"I… Thank you," she said, before falling silent again.

 

In retrospect, that was probably the conversation that had brought her around. Once he was settled in Haven, she ran up to visit him everyday. He would watch her go make her rounds with her companions, just to check up on them, sometimes ask questions about where they came from and what they thought about the current state of things. She cared about people, he noted. A good quality in a leader. She was scared as fuck and full of self doubt, he was sure, but she was damn well trying her best. He couldn't fault her for that.

She would stop to chat to Cassandra and Cullen, and he'd watch them from outside his tent. He saw from the way Cullen leaned in towards her that there was probably some burgeoning attraction there. _Poor guy,_ he couldn't help but think, _she's showing zero signs back at you._ Then again, from the way Ariana wouldn't stop staring at Cassandra's face, he was pretty sure there was something blossoming there too. _Sorry kid,_ he wanted to say, _but she doesn't look all that interested. Also she keeps looking a little too long at one of the particularly hot recruits. Who's a guy. Tough break, kid._

But when she bounced over to him, it seemed like she spent longer talking to him. Or Krem. Questions would spill out of her mouth like a flood. She wanted to know every last thing about Qunari culture that she could squeeze out of Bull. And it wasn't a lot, only enough to sate her curiosity, but she drank it up nonetheless. And then she'd try to squeeze every last tidbit about Tevinter culture out of Krem. Though that didn't work very well; Krem would steer the conversation back to talking about the Chargers, and she seemed fine with that, too. She honestly was the perfect picture of someone who'd been isolated their whole life, and couldn't believe everything that they'd been missing. It was maybe a little annoying, but it was also kinda cute. She just wanted to swallow up everything. He'd seen her sitting in the Chantry surrounded by books, or having rapt conversations with Solas or Mother Giselle. She would ask questions, and then just listen, bouncing and twitching away, not looking you in the eye but undoubtedly paying attention. Which was good; you needed that in a leader.

She might've been a tiny, sparrow of a thing, but she showed some kind of promise. Bull was glad. And the folks back home were sure glad for that, too.

 

\--

 

Every day when Ariana woke up, she was terrified. She ate breakfast terrified. She went about the day terrified. She lay awake at night feeling terrified until eventually everything became a sleepy haze, and she awoke to the golden sun, not sure whether or not she really had slept. Her family had contacted her for the first time in years when the Conclave was announced. Finally, their shameful mage daughter was useful to the family name! She can represent us at the Conclave! And thanks to them, she was in this mess. She'd liked the Circle. It was comfortable. Routine. She could quietly undertake magical research without interruption all day. She could hone her skills. It was peaceful. Here… People noticed her. Cared about her. Loved her. Hated her. Wanted to kill her. Every day was different and unplanned, and it was _awful_.

When in Haven at least, she'd tried to build some semblance of routine so she didn't go insane. She'd wake up, wash her face in the basin in her little hut, get dressed, go to the tavern and grab a bowl of whatever they were serving that day, then go to the Chantry and meet with Cassandra, Cullen, Leliana and Josephine and discuss the Inquisition's next move. Then she'd go and study. She studied Chantry history, and the history of the first Inquisition, and she read the Chant of Light over and over again, hoping to find some answers, to see if Andraste would _really_ choose her. She read all the books she could about the Dalish and elven history, about the dwarves, about what had happened in Kirkwall that started all this. Mother Giselle had been very good at finding her the relevant Chantry books, and she had her own knowledge to impart; Josephine had been able to help her requisition some of the more difficult to find history books. And Solas has been able to tell her so much more about the elves than she would ever have been able to find in a book. She'd set up a corner of the Chantry as a library, and it seemed to keep growing and growing.

When her eyes began to ache, she'd put her books down and wander around Haven. If she was hungry, she'd get something else to eat at the tavern, and maybe sit awhile and just listen to the chatter. She found that she learnt a lot of interesting things by just sitting and listening. Then she'd get up and go and talk to each of her companions, if they weren't busy. It was nice just to check up on them, make sure they were okay. She figured, if she was this scared, how must they be feeling? Varric was always happy to talk about himself, though she felt he was probably… extending the truth a bit. Cassandra was wary, but as the weeks past, she had become more friendly towards Ariana, and she liked talking to her. Cullen always seemed pleased to see her, which she didn't mind. Leliana was kind of scary and very serious, but she smiled when she talked to Josephine. Josephine was fun to talk to. There was a lightness about her, but she was smart and capable, and she was good at giving advice. Solas was simply full of fascinating information, and he seemed to love sharing it.

And Bull was… She didn't even know how to describe him. Huge might be a word. She should be scared of him, she thought, but there was something friendly and trustworthy about him. The more reasonable part of her brain told her, _He's a spy. You read about the Ben-Hassrath as soon as you could get your hands on a book that talked about them. They're secret police. Their job is lying. He's probably lying to you. He probably knows how to make you trust him._ She didn't want to think that he was lying, though. He'd even told her straight off the bat that he was a spy. That was trustworthy, right? When she thought about it, she couldn’t help but sigh and run her fingers along her braids. No one had taught her about these things, and she couldn’t read people’s faces or intentions for shit.

He was a good fighter in any case. She felt safe fighting next to him. Even if Cassandra and Varric seemed to disapprove of his presence, she liked to take him along when they were called out to a rift or to a fight that the Inquisition forces couldn’t handle on their own.

And she remembered what he'd told her about killing people, and somehow it made her feel okay. Like the blood on her hands wouldn’t stain.

After talking to everyone, she'd go back to the Chantry, study some more. Sometimes she'd sit quietly and pray.

 _Andraste,_ she'd think, _if I'm really your chosen, can you give me a sign? Anything? The Maker gave you dreams and visions. Can you give me the same?_

 

But nothing seemed to come of her prayers, and still she lived in doubt.

 

Usually, she'd finish her day with more meetings as reports came in, and then she'd eat, maybe sit in the tavern by the fire and listen to the chatter, and then she'd go to bed and pray for sleep.

Of course, her day was often interrupted. Reports that required immediate action would come in suddenly, supplies would come in, nobles and diplomats would arrive wanting to speak with her. She wished people would tell her these things ahead of time. It always panicked her to be suddenly torn away from whatever she was doing, to do something unplanned. Luckily Josephine was always there to help her navigate the verbal minefield of talking to the nobles. Leliana or Cullen was always there to unpack reports. The Quartermaster was excellent at checking off supplies. But it was still awful, and she didn't know how to deal with everything sometimes. She didn’t know why everyone had decided she was anything close to a leader.

 

She was just glad she hadn't had one of her fits yet. The last thing everyone needed was to see the Herald of Andraste completely lose her shit.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt at a multi-chapter fic that has an actual planned out plot. Shoutout to haemoheretic for editing. Constructive criticism is always welcome!  
> The title is blatantly stolen from the lyrics of Take Me To Church by Hozier.  
> You can also find me on tumblr at skyholdfunk.tumblr.com!


	2. Ice

"Ah, Herald," Josephine called softly. Ariana looked up from the book she was reading in her little library to see Josephine hovering a few metres away. "I have a matter that I wish to discuss with you, if you have the time.” Ariana nodded and slid a leather bookmark into place before hurriedly following Josephine.

"Yes?" Ariana said once they were inside her office. As Josephine took a seat behind her desk, Ariana glanced over at Minaeve, who looked up from the artefacts on her desk to give her a small smile.

"Well, I have an invitation for you. It is from Grand Enchanter Vivienne de Fer. She requests your presence at a soirée she is holding at her home in Orlais.”

Ariana couldn't help but gasp. "Madame de Fer wants to see me? Really?"

Josephine chuckled. "Are you a fan of hers, Herald?"

"I… I sided with her, when the Circles wanted to disband. Everything was chaos, and she felt like the voice of reason. I doubt that she would've taken any notice of me. I only passed my Harrowing a few years ago, and I haven’t done anything very important, so I'm not really all that notable."

"Well, you're certainly notable now," Josephine said, "and I imagine that she is interested in giving us her aid. Shall I let her know that you will be attending? I believe she could be a formidable ally. She has a lot of political power in Orlais. And having a Circle-aligned mage on our side would give us some more credibility in the Chantry's eyes."

Ariana had to try not to splutter. "Y-Yes, of course! Please tell her that I'd be honoured."

Josephine smiled. "At once, Herald."

 

Ariana had to go take a walk after that to calm her pounding heart. It would be a lie to say that she didn't idolise Enchanter Vivienne, especially when the mages took a vote to keep the Circles or to rebel. When she thought about it, she'd sided with Vivienne more out of fear than anything else. She didn't want her only known way of life to disappear. Sure, there were problems, but they could be fixed, couldn't they? Most of her Circle was happy, weren't they? Why did they have to change things so dramatically? She had to fight against it. She didn't want to watch her world to dissolve around her.

But it had dissolved anyway, and here she was.

That thought made her feet stop moving. Nothing was the same, was it? She knew that. Of course nothing was the same. The moment she'd woken up in the dungeon, screaming in agony as green light tore through her hand, she knew things had gone very, very wrong. She knew nothing would be normal again. When she healed holes in the Veil and watched demons vanish into dust, she knew things were horribly amiss. When she felt bile rise in her throat as she stepped over rotting bodies in the Hinterlands, she knew things had changed for the worst. But it all crashed into her at that moment, and she couldn't breathe. 

She wanted to run, but she had to look normal. She couldn't let all the people who looked up to her see her like this. She walked fast, maybe too fast, speeding past huts and tents and people and banks of snow. She went out of the gates and into the training area, and the sound of clashing steel rang through her head and made it hard for her to see. She felt herself losing her balance, and she covered her ears with her hands to stem the endless stream of noise.

 _I have to get away_ , was all she could think.

She remembered the old little cottage, where she'd found those plans for Adan, and she sped towards it. It was far enough away from Haven. She just needed to get near it, away from everyone else. She rounded the corner and couldn't see the village anymore. The moment she was out of sight, the moment she couldn't hear the shouts and the clanging sounds of mock-fighting, she collapsed to her knees in the snow and screamed. She slammed her fists into the icy ground, and she felt rock crack against her knuckles, but she didn't care. The world no longer seemed real, her body moving on its own. She screamed and pounded at the ground until her voice felt hoarse and her hands went numb, and only then did she curl her arms around herself and fall to her side. The screams turned to sobs as she tried to regain control of herself. Slowly, shakily, she held her hands up in front of her face. Her knuckles were bloody and turning blue from the cold; even the mark’s glow seemed to have dulled. After a few moments she propped herself up on her elbows, trying to tap into her mana. She managed to cast a small healing spell onto her hands, and soon the raw skin had healed over, looking good as new. It took her a few more minutes, slowly counting her breaths, before she got to her feet. Her head was still swimming, but she needed to get back before people worried. She was just glad she hadn't attracted anyone's attention with her outburst. She wiped any remaining tears away from her face, and trudged back towards the village.

 

\--

 

Bull had been chatting with the blacksmith when out of the corner of his eye he'd seen Ariana speeding off in the other direction. It was hard to tell what she was up to from so far away, but when she came walking back, much slower than she had been before, her shoulders were sagged and she was staring down at the ground, and when he caught a glimpse of her face her eyes were swollen and red. When she looked up he waved at her, and she gave him a weak little wave back, then trudged over to him, almost collapsing onto one of the stools he kept outside his tent.

"You okay?" he asked, voice low. "I saw you running off over there."

"Ah.” She gave a small chuckle, and her eyes flitted back and forth as she thought. She was probably thinking of a lie, Bull thought. But that was fine, he’d let her have it.

“Do you know the healer, Adan? He's actually an alchemist, but anyway, awhile ago he said he couldn't find these papers that his old boss had been working on. Anyway, I found a little cottage and it turned out it had belonged to his boss! So I brought the papers back to him. But I suddenly realised today that I'd left something in there, so I raced back to get it."

Bull looked down at her. Yep, it was an obvious lie, embedded in a truth, but… Well, she'd obviously run off to have a good cry where no one could see her. It would be cruel to call her out on that.

"Is that so? Did you find it?"

"Um… yes!" Her eyes lit up briefly and she began to fumble with one of the small pouches that hung from the leather belt around her waist. "It was, uh, this knife… I know it's strange for a mage to have a knife, probably, but you never know when you might need one."

The knife she held out was in an ornately embossed leather case, the handle a deep brown wood, carved with a matching pattern. "It's very pretty," Bull said. "I can understand why you'd worry if you lost it."

Ariana gave a small smile. "It was… My mother sent it to me, actually. When they found out that people were calling me the Herald. All she said about it in her letter was, 'I've sent you a knife. Remember, your magic can always fail you.' So I guess she meant for me to use it to defend myself? But it's pretty small and I don't really know how to fight with a knife. I guess it could end up being handy. Who knows, I guess?"

"Hmm," Bull said. "Well I'm not an expert. I prefer big, heavy blades, but I know how to throw knives pretty well. Know the best places to stab a guy, too."

Ariana looked up at him cautiously. She chewed her lip and her fingers fluttered at her sides.

"Would you teach me how to do that? It could be good, if I fight someone who knows how to cancel out magic, or I run out of mana, or something like that. It's always good to have a backup plan, yeah?"

Bull grinned down at her. "Yeah, I could do that."

Ariana beamed up at him, but then her face dropped. "But… not right now," Ariana said, shifting her feet. "I'm going to Orlais to meet another potential ally. I've gotta go prepare, talk to Josephine and stuff. Uh, I told her I'd be back after I, um, went to look for my knife."

Bull let out a low chuckle. "Go do what you gotta do, Boss. I'll be here."

 

\--

 

Ariana arrived back from Orlais with Enchanter Vivienne’s small but impressive caravan in tow. Vivienne brought with her a small number of servants, who were quickly put to work in the village. There was always help needed around the place, as every day the village swelled with new refugees and soldiers who came to help a holy cause. Vivienne herself demanded a place in the Chantry, and one of the small alcoves was cordoned off for her. Everyone who saw Ariana enter Haven with the Enchanter saw how excited Ariana looked, as she gave Vivienne a brief tour of the place. Vivienne herself looked mildly amused, and gave Ariana a look at one usually reserves for excitable puppies. Still, it was fond. Vivienne was quietly pleased that the apparent Herald of Andraste was on her side. It made her feel much more confident about the whole endeavour.

Ariana was just excited to finally get to meet the mage she had looked up to for such a long time. She’d heard news of Vivienne while in Ostwick, of course. She was from that same Circle after all, and had made quite a name for herself. She seemed so strong and powerful and confident, even just from the stories of her. Seeing her in person and feeling the aura of power that she gave off almost made Ariana’s knees weak. She stood tall, and walked with a fluidity and grace that Ariana deeply envied, and deeply admired. Being around almost made Ariana visibly buzz.

The little voice in the back of her had kept whispering, _You’re being too excitable. You’re going to make her uncomfortable. You need to back off._ But it was hard to listen when Vivienne was _right there_.

 

\--

 

“You come from Ostwick, do you not, dear?” Vivienne asked. It had been a few days since Vivienne had arrived, and it had been easy for Ariana to integrate her into her daily companion check-ins, especially since her living area was so close to Ariana’s library.

“Ah, yes, I do!” Ariana had replied, trying not to beam too hard at Vivienne remembering such a small detail about her.

“I come from the Free Marches myself,” Vivienne said. “I spent my younger years in Ostwick as well, before I transferred to Montsimmard.”

“Oh yes, I have heard,” Ariana said, probably a little too fast. Vivienne gave her a look that she couldn’t read.

“You certainly know a lot of me,” Vivienne said dryly. “I should be flattered.”

Ariana blushed a little. “Uh, I suppose, you were a bit of a celebrity back in Ostwick. A lot people saw you… I guess as a bit of a beacon of hope. Look, First Enchanter Vivienne started here! We could be like her, too! That’s probably silly. Especially for me, well, I’m not nearly as graceful as you, and the Senior Enchanters always said that I have the social awareness of an old hat. Even at your party…” Ariana looked down at her bouncing feet and blushed. “I don’t think I would survive in Orlais.”

Vivienne’s lips formed a small smile. “Still, even old hats can be salvaged and fashioned into the appropriate style. You’re still young, dear, don’t write yourself off just yet.”

Ariana honestly had to try not to explode out of her boots. “Y-Yes! Of course, you’re right.”

“The politics of the Cirlces aren’t so different to the Great Game of Orlais,” Vivienne said. “But of course, they are much greater. You must be ruthless, and cunning, but kind where you need to be. You need to be bolder, I think. But I see potential in you, dear. Tell me, when it comes time to choose whose aid you will seek, do you intend to reach out for the rebel mages, or to what remains of the Templar Order?”

Ariana tilted her head to the side as she thought. “My gut instinct is to reach out to my fellow mages. Show them that someone’s on their side. Maybe then, this pointless fighting will stop. I was happy in the Circle, but obviously, they weren’t. If… If we can restore some sense of order to the mages, give them a purpose that isn’t senseless violence and rebellion, I think it will help. I think if I went to the Templars, it would just make them angrier. They would fight back even harder.”

Vivienne hummed thoughtfully. “I can see your logic, dear. But tell me, what after all this is over? Would you re-instate the Circles?”

“I… I don’t know. I’m not sure I’ve thought that far ahead,” she said with a nervous chuckle. “Ideally… I think maybe, it’s cruel to tear young children away from their families. And it’s cruel to lock people up. It would be better I think if the Circles were more like schools. Young mages go there to learn how to harness their magic properly, to learn how to keep themselves safe from demons, to find their particular magical skills. And then when they pass their Harrowing, they’re free to go out into the world. They can go back home, or stay at the Circle and research or teach. They could take a trade or become healers outside. I think we should be able to have families and children, too. I think if it was like that… Maybe we could have more freedom, without unskilled mages becoming dangerous.”

There was a smile in Vivienne’s voice. “It seems you actually _have_ given this a great deal of thought, my dear. I can’t say that I entirely agree with you, but I am pleased that you don’t want to be entirely rid of the Circles. Like it or not, the Circles have their place. They keep mages safe from themselves, give us a place where we can be among our peers. No mage is more dangerous than when she feels alone in the world. Remember that, my dear.”

“I-I will, of course!” Ariana splutterd, and Vivienne smiled.

“I am glad to hear it.”

 

\--

 

Ariana had to briefly go back to her hut after that. Even though she still needed to go talk to the others, she needed to expel her energy after talking to Vivienne. Actually getting to talk to and work with someone she idolised was too much. Back in the Circle, when she got too excited from making a discovery or reading something interesting, she would go back to her room and jump around and flap her hands. Sometimes it was so overwhelming that she couldn’t even remember to do that. It was like her joy blinded her.

Everyone there was used to her behaving oddly. Even the Templars, once they’d been repeatedly assured she wasn’t possessed, payed it no mind. But here… People saw her as a holy figure, not just a weird scrawny girl. What would they think if they saw the Herald of Andraste jumping around like a madwoman? She’d figured her two safe places were her hut and the old alchemist’s cottage out on the outskirts of Haven. That was all. But it was enough.

She was still jittery, but she’d managed to calm herself down enough to contain it by the time she got to Bull out near the training area. She was still a little flushed though, and Bull raised an eyebrow at her.

“I-I was talking to Enchanter Vivienne,” Ariana said in explanation. She could still feel how hot her cheeks were. “She’s… I look up to her a lot.”

Bull smiled at her. “You got a bit of a crush there, Boss? You like powerful women, I take it?”

Any attempt Ariana had made to stop blushing was thwarted by Bull’s words.

“What?! No! I-I don’t have to have a c-crush on someone to admire them! I look up to her! T-That’s all!”

“Oh? And what about the eyes you keep making at Cassandra?”

Ariana stuttered. “S-She has nice cheekbones, okay? And you can’t even talk! You’ve slept, what, half of the village? I hear what people say in the tavern.” She crossed her arms across her chest and huffed. Bull let out an uproarious laugh that drew the attention of those nearby.

“Boss, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re _adorable_. Also I’m sorry to tell you, but I think Cassandra only likes men.”

“How could you even tell something like that?”

“Eh, it’s the way she looks at people. People tend to kinda… look through the genders they don’t like, and take more notice of the genders that they do. It’s a subtle thing. It’s good to be able to notice it, helps you not get punched in face in taverns.”

“How do you even notice something like that? How can you tell how someone’s looking at someone else?”

“I dunno, it’s just a skill. I’m good at reading people, what can I say.”

Ariana huffed. “Well I’m rubbish at it. …But thanks. For telling me about Cassandra.” She sighed. “I won’t go getting my hopes up, at least. … Um! Anyway,” Ariana said, loudly changing the subject, “I wanted to ask you. I got so swept up in heading off to Orlais, that I forgot… You said you could teach me how to fight with a knife?”

Bull grinned. “ _Fuck yeah_ I can.”

Ariana grinned back, flustered slightly by his enthusiasm. “Is now a good time?”

“I can make any time a good time for you, Boss,” he said, with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Eyebrow. He only had one, and it looked kind of silly when he wiggled it, which made Ariana giggle more than his innuendo did.

They walked over to a part of the training area that was currently being unused. There were targets lined up, most likely for archery practice. In front of the targets was a large stretch of sparse, rocky earth. Archers would probably have stood further back, but Ariana and Bull stood fairly close to the targets.

“All right, give me the knife,” Bull said. Ariana fished it out of her pouch and removed the leather pocket that covered the blade, before carefully handing it to him handle first. Bull hefted the knife for a moment.

“The trick with throwing knives,” he said, “is that you have to find the balance of the blade. If you throw it when it’s off balance, it won’t fly through the air properly. It’ll wobble and go off course, and you won’t hit your target.”

Ariana nodded, watching the way that Bull balanced the blade on a single finger. He balanced it at the top of the hilt, right before the blunt metal guard that separated the handle from the blade.

“If the blade of the knife is heavier, then you're going to want to throw it by the handle. If the handle is heavier, then you want to throw it by the blade. This knife has a heavier blade. Probably a good thing, don’t want to accidentally cut your hand.

“When you find the balance,” Bull continued, “you need to hold it like this.” He held the handle of the knife in his hand, with his thumb placed vertically, dead in the centre of the handle on one side, and his pointer, middle, and ring fingers horizontally on the other side of the handle.

“Now, you wanna line up your knife with your target,” he said, turning towards the archery target. “It’s probably easier now if you just watch what I do.”

Bull stepped back, the side of his body that was not holding the knife facing the target, and the knife held high in his hand, ready to strike. Then he swung his body forward, stepping forward with the knife-side foot. As he stepped forward, he used the momentum to push his arm forward. He let go of the knife, and it spun in the air as it flew towards the target, before hitting it a little to the side of the centre.

Bull huffed, sounding pleased with himself. “Not bad! I haven’t even done that for awhile. All right, you try now.” He strode forward and plucked the knife from the straw behind the target’s cloth cover, and handed it to Ariana.

“All right, now hold it like I showed you… Good,” Bull said, watching Ariana closely. “Okay, now line yourself up with the target… No, you’re a bit off, straighten a little… Good. Okay, now arm back, then as you step forward, you want to bring your arm forward and throw the knife.”

Ariana took a deep breath as she eyeballed the target. She doubted she would get anywhere close to the centre, but as long as she hit it, she’d be happy. She hoped Bull would be pleased too, that he would crack that warm grin of his at her. The thought made a warm feeling swell inside her, but she shook her head to shake it away. She had to concentrate.

She let out her breath as she swung her body forward, bringing her arm with her, and she let go of the knife. She watched as it sailed through the air, and…

 

Drove straight into the hard ground, next to the target. 

 

Ariana visibly deflated, but Bull clapped her on the back.

“Hey now, that was pretty damn good for your first try! Look, you even made it the right distance! You mages don’t have the best muscle tone. You folks usually have a hard time putting any real strength behind physical attacks, so that was pretty good!”

Ariana perked up a little. “Really?”

Bull grinned down at her. “Yeah, really! Come on, let’s try again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you even do chapter names. Oh well, I'm committed now!  
> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter! Another shoutout to haemoheretic for dealing with me badgering him about editing. As always, I love me some constructive criticism if you feel so inclined, but I also love any kind of comment!  
> And you can find me on tumblr at skyholdfunk.tumblr.com!  
> Until next time!


	3. Warm Orange Light

Ariana bounced down the steps to the training area, turning toward Iron Bull’s tent with a look of glee on her face. Her face fell when she saw that Bull wasn’t standing out the front, observing like he normally did. All she could see was Krem, sitting on wooden stool, whittling a stick.

She breathed in and pulled the smile back onto her face as she walked over to him. She liked him, and she shouldn't look disappointed to see him. He was honest and kind, and Bull talked about him almost like he was his son. There was something about found families that made her heart swell.

“Krem, is Bull inside?” she asked, smiling down at him.

He looked up at her, squinting against the last golden rays of sunlight that shone down on Haven, making the snowy ground gleam. “No, I think he went off to the tavern. Said something about there being a cute serving girl.” The way Krem said the last part of the sentence made him sound heavy and put upon.

“You don’t sound thrilled by that,” Ariana said in what she hoped was a jovial tone.

Krem shook his head. “Nah, it's just typical. But what can you do, that’s the Chief. Anyway, if you’re looking for him, he should be there.”

Ariana nodded at him and beamed, fingers bouncing. “All right, thanks Krem!”

 

The tavern was full of noise as people began settling in as evening fell and the air outside grew from cool to cold. The early drinkers were already into the wine or the ale or the mead. A small group of scouts sat close to the fire, talking and laughing, and the tables were already beginning to fill up. Ariana usually avoided the tavern at these times. Lunchtime was okay; the tavern was mostly just occupied by the civilians who worked in the village, as the soldiers ate out in the training area, and the Chantry sisters preferred to eat around the campfire outside the Chantry. But when night began to fall and the mountain chill descended upon the village, it seemed like nearly everyone and their mother retreated into the tavern. She really couldn’t blame anyone for it. The tavern was warm with the roar of the fire and the heat of moving bodies, and the fire and the lanterns cast everything in an inviting orange glow. She stepped into the tavern, feeling momentary off balance. Her vision swam as she adjusted to the noise and the light and the movement of people, but she only needed to linger a moment before her eyes fell on Bull. He was sitting in the corner of the tavern, his back against the converging walls.

 

It was little things like this that reminded Ariana that he was a spy. No doubt, he was sitting there so he could see everything. He could see who came in and out of the door, see who was ordering at the bar, see where everyone was sitting and whom they were with. She figured he could probably hear every conversation, too. She wondered if being able to hear so much made him lose his balance too.

He glanced up as she came in, and his face melted from a look of stern observance into a friendly grin. He waved her over, and Ariana carefully waded through the sea of people until she reached him.

“Boss,” he said warmly. “Don’t see you in here often. Grab a chair.”

Ariana dragged an empty chair away from a nearby table and sat herself next to him. She noted that he was holding a half-full tankard of something viscous looking.

“What brings you into this fine establishment this evening?” he asked casually as he took a gulp of his drink.

“I spoke to Leliana earlier,” Ariana said, her knees bouncing. They had started the moment she sat down. It made the constant wave of noise feel duller. “She said that she heard there’s a Grey Warden in the Hinterlands. He’s called Blackwall, apparently. She thinks he could be a good addition to the Inquisition, and so we should go and search him out and recruit him.”

Iron Bull hummed. “A Grey Warden, huh? Well, they know their shit about dark and spooky stuff. Could probably help us out with all the demons.”

“I think their expertise is more in darkspawn, actually. …I really hope darkspawn don’t happen,” Ariana said with a shudder. “Anyway, I think Leliana’s right. The Wardens have particular knowledge that we don’t. Recruiting one couldn’t do us any harm.”

“And you’d like me to go with you,” Bull stated, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

Ariana nodded. “If you’d like.”

Bull grinned. “Boss, I call you that for a reason, you know. I’ll follow you wherever.”

Ariana hoped the warm light of the tavern hid the way her cheeks were turning red.

“Now how’s ‘bout a drink, Boss?”

“Uh, I don’t really… I mean, I’ve never…”

Bull looked at her, mouth agape. “You’ve never had a drink before?”

“Well, you don’t really drink in the Circle. I mean, the Senior Enchanters probably did, and sometimes the mages managed to get a bottle in, but I was never really interested.”

“Oh man, I gotta get you one. You’re missing out, Boss. Don’t worry, I’ll get you something light.”

“Um, I mean… Is it okay? I don't want to pass out, or... Or do anything stupid."

Bull laughed. "Don't worry, Boss, I won't get you drunk. You can say no if you really don't want anything."

Ariana hmm'd, examining her fingernails. _Well, why not? There's a first time for everything._ “Maybe... Just a small glass of something?”

He smiled. "That I can do.”

 

Ariana found very quickly that she was, first of all, what Bull called a light-weight, and secondly, that alcohol made being in the noisy, bright, people-filled tavern much less overwhelming for her senses. It was nice, like everything was covered in a warm blanket. She could laugh more easily, too, and she spoke without worrying that what she was saying was wrong or strange or would make everyone run away. Bull seemed more at ease too, even though she couldn't place why. They talked about what seemed like nothing and listened in on the tables around them, laughing at some of the stories they heard, and at some point, he slung his arm over the back of her chair, and she leaned into his warmth without thinking. It was… nice.

 

(Though at the same time she had to remind herself that drinking was probably not a thing to make a habit of.)

 

Bull eventually got up and fetched them a bowl of stew each, and it tasted even more delicious than normal, Ariana thought. They ate in silence for awhile, listening to a balding man in leather armour at a nearby table telling a loud, lewd story that made Ariana blush. Ariana chewed at her food, waiting for the right moment before she asked, “Hey Bull, can you tell me how you do it? The whole reading people thing.”

Bull huffed, setting the wooden spoon down in his bowl. “It’s hard to explain… It’s just a thing I can do. Always been good at it.”

“But you must’ve practised, right? There must be some things that you can’t tell naturally.”

“Hmm, yeah, there are.” Bull scratched the underside of his chin. “But, man, I can’t even remember how I learnt it. You just gotta get good at watching people. Seeing what expressions they make when they say certain things, seeing if what they do and say matches, stuff like that… It’s like recognising patterns. When you know the patterns, you can spot them anywhere.”

Ariana nodded and hummed. “Can you tell me what the people here are thinking? Or feeling?”

“Well I’m not a mind reader, Boss,” he said, shifting to sit more upright, “but you can kinda get a feel, at least.”

He scanned the room with his eye. “Like that guy over there, with the girl with the big tits on his knee.”

Ariana’s eyes wandered over the sea of people before she noticed them. She nodded, feeling embarrassed to be looking so intently at what looked like a private moment.

“He’s married,” Bull said. “I saw it before, there’s a tan mark on one of his fingers. He used to be wearing a ring. He also keeps looking around, all nervous. Probably worried someone who knows him or his wife will walk in.”

Ariana nodded, wide-eyed. “Can you really tell that? Or are you just guessing?”

“Hmm, well, yeah, some of it’s guesswork. He could be nervous about something else, or maybe he’s just a nervous person, but what’s the most likely thing for a guy with a woman on his lap and a tan mark from a ring he’s not wearing to be worried about?”

“That makes sense,” Ariana said. “I couldn’t even tell what he’s feeling. I just assumed… He was probably happy?”

Bull frowned a little at that. “Boss, if you're going to be dealing with people, you’ve probably gotta learn how to read them.”

“I do all right, don’t I? I just… try to be friendly.” She ducked her head and smoothed her hand across her hair. “Anyway, I have Josephine to be all diplomatic… and if I ever need to know how to read someone, I can always ask you,” she said, flicking her eyes up to him. “I mean, if you wanted to.”

Bull chuckled. “Well, sure. But if I’m gonna do that, I’m gonna teach you too, all right? You needa learn this shit for yourself. The world is full of assholes who want to lie to you. You need to be able to tell if they are.”

“Can you tell when I’m lying?” she asked suddenly, voice quiet.

Bull hesitated for a moment. “Yeah, but you don’t lie about anything that big. You’re a bit too honest, actually. But… I dunno. It’s good. I think it puts people at ease. Even if you sometimes… Now don’t take this the wrong way, but—”

Ariana smiled slightly and held up a hand. “Bull, I’ve been myself for 24 years. I know that I make people uncomfortable.”

“And you still do it?”

“It’s more a matter of having no idea that I’m doing it. I think I’ve figured out the rules, and then there’s new ones. Or they’ve changed. Or suddenly two people have had a fight and no one told you and you asked them both to come and help you with your research project… Yeah, no. I know it happens.”

Bull huffed. “Sorry. That was probably a sore spot, huh?”

“I’m used to it,” she said, shrugging.

Bull watched her face, and saw the sadness that tugged at her. He let out a rumbling cough and crossed his arms across his chest.

“Anyway, Boss, you finished with your stew? Want another drink?”

Ariana laughed and handed him her bowl. "Yes, I am, thank you. And I thought you said you weren't going to get me drunk?”

“Well... It's up to you, really?"

Ariana smiled up at him shyly. “I mean… well, I can do one more.”

 

\--

 

Ariana decided that slightly tipsy was not the best state in which to approach Enchanter Vivienne (and it had gotten so late! When did that happen?), so she waited until the next morning after the war council meeting.

“How can I help you, dear?” she asked as Ariana approached. Vivienne was busy arranging the books in her bookshelf, from the looks of it.

“Tomorrow I’m going to be heading off to the Hinterlands to look for a Grey Warden named Blackwall. I was wondering if you’d like to come? We wouldn’t just be looking for him, there are always rifts popping up, and people who need help, so it’ll be more… adventurous than just looking for some guy, and—”

Vivienne held up a silencing hand. “Hush dear, you’re rambling.”

Ariana looked down at the flagstone floor and fiddled with the end of one of her long braids.

“Of course I’ll come with you,” Vivienne said, and Ariana looked up hopefully. “I was beginning to get bored here, to tell you the truth. And who else is coming?”  
“The Iron Bull,” Ariana said, and Vivienne raised an expertly arched eyebrow, “and Varric. I haven't asked him yet, but he never says no.”

“Well,” Vivienne said with a flourish, “I’ve never travelled with a Qunari and a dwarf before. This shall be interesting.”

 

\--

 

Getting through the Hinterlands hadn’t been as easy as they’d hoped. The Inquisiton had managed to stop much of the fighting when Ariana had first stepped out with Cassandra, Varric, and Solas, and the Inquisition forces were doing a good job of quelling any mage or templar activity that arose. But there were still bandits ambushing the road, and there was still the odd group of rebel mages or rogue Templars who thought that attacking their group was in any way a good idea.

 

And then there were rifts. Ariana thought she’d managed to close a lot already, but they kept appearing. Demons would spill out, and Bull would shout out in a mix of bloodlust and fear. Varric would swear under his breath, and Vivienne would say nothing as she readied her spells.

Ariana didn’t like fighting, but she wasn’t bad at it. Of all the things that scared her most about battle, it was being close to the centre of it. With blades and spells and limbs flailing all around her, with the noise and the smells crowding her senses, she could barely think. She couldn't see properly and she began to feel dizzy and nauseated. If she could stand back, she could see where everyone was. Pick out the details they couldn't from up so close. See the cracks in enemy defences and _strike_. She didn't like how good she was at it. She didn't like using her skills to hurt others. But being able to stand back and see the things others didn't had always been her strong point in the Circle. It was why she had liked research so much. Finding the details others had completely skipped over was _thrilling_.

 

So she took the same approach to fighting. She stayed away from the fray. She looked for the things others couldn't see. It maybe made her seem flighty, like a coward who stayed out of danger but let others go right into the line of fire, but it worked. And when a fight ended and Bull whooped, when Vivienne smirked self-assuredly and swung her staff back onto her back in a fluid movement, when Varric grunted and looked at Bianca like he was proud of her, she felt like her strategy was pretty all right.

 

\--

 

They were close now to the place that the scouts had marked on the map as being Blackwall’s likely location, but the sun was beginning to set, so they set up camp. They'd also spent the day hunting the new rifts that the scouts had also marked on map, and now they sat around the campfire, all varying levels of exhausted. Ariana had taken her gloves off, and was absently rubbing at her marked hand as she gazed at the colours of the sunset. The Hinterlands were always beautiful, she thought. All green leaves and warm light. If anything, she was glad that being dragged into this Inquisition had let her see the outside world.

She sighed at her hand. The pain had flared up today, transforming from its usual faint prickles to a low burn. She was used to ignoring a constant background of vague pain (noise, lights, people, voices, fabric, clothing, magic), but when it flared up like this, it was hard to ignore it, to merge it into the background discomfort that she lived with.

 

"You all right, Boss?" Bull said, looking sideways at her. She sat next to him at the campfire. Varric sat on the other side of the fire, polishing Bianca. Vivienne had retreated to her tent for the time being.

"Yeah, just hurts a bit," Ariana said, shrugging. 

"Only just a bit?" Bull asked hopefully. "'Cause I was thinking, I'd like to see how your knife throwing’s going."

There was a chuckle from Varric. "You're teaching her how to throw knives? Why? Not to doubt your skills of observance, Tiny, but last time I checked, the Herald had magic."

"My mother sent me a knife," Ariana said, fetching the knife in question from her pouch. "In case my magic fails, I think. I don't really understand how her mind works, but I think that this makes sense. It's good to have a backup plan, right? Bull’s been teaching me, I asked him to.”

“Ahh, I thought you two were up to something,” Varric said with a smirk.

“Hey, laugh if you want, but she’s good.” Bull sounded almost proud. “She’s hitting the target nearly every time now.”

“ _Nearly_ every time?”

“Look, I don’t have the best hand-eye co-ordination,” Ariana said, trying not to sound too defensive.

“Eh, I think you’re doing a great job,” Bull said. “Like you said, it's a backup plan. Never hurts to have more than one way to win a fight.”

Varric shrugged. “Yeah, can’t blame you for trying to upskill our Herald. I’ll give you that.”

“It's not like I couldn't still fry you with barely a blink," Ariana grin.

Varric shook his head fondly. “Yes, yes, blargh, magic, scary, very threatening."

Vivienne emerged from her tent then, looking more than a little annoyed. “What on earth are all of you going on about?”

“Tiny’s been teaching the Herald how to throw knives,” Varric explained.

Vivienne expression changed to one of amusement. “Whatever for?”

“In case I can’t use my magic for some reason,” Ariana said sheepishly.

“Well,” Vivienne said with a pause. “It’s not a bad idea to have a backup plan, I suppose.”

"That's what I've been saying! Thank you! See, Lady Vivienne backs me up!" she exclaimed at Varric.

"Hey, I never said I disapproved! Do whatever you gotta do, Herald."

Vivienne joined them by the fire. It was strange to see her in such an informal way, but even as she sat on one of the logs they’d pulled up around the fire, she still sat with a kind of regal grace.

“I can’t say I’m not curious to see your knife-throwing skills too, Herald,” she said, and there was absolutely mirth in her voice.

Ariana felt embarrassed, like maybe they were mocking her and she didn't notice. Bull saw this on her face.

“Hey, Boss, you are good at it yeah? I know that. I’ve watched you get better. But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, all right? You don’t want to show us, it’s fine.”

Ariana nodded and stood. She bounced back and forth on her feet as she shakily retrieved her knife. She stepped out of the circle they’d formed around the fire and turned to a nearby tree. It was skinny. It’d be easy to miss.

 _I’m not going to miss_.

She eyed its centre, and readied her stance. She took a moment to breathe, relax, focus, and then she threw the knife.

It didn’t land exactly in the centre, but it was close enough. Bull let out a whoop, and Ariana turned around with a pleased grin on her face.

“Well, that’s not bad for someone who usually just sets things on fire,” Varric chucked. Vivienne raised an eyebrow in what was either amusement, disapproval, or perhaps both.

“It’s always good to have a party trick, my dear,” she said.

 

But Bull smiled at Ariana with such _pride_ , and it made her heart swell and her hands flutter.

“See, Boss? Toldya you were good.”

 

\--

 

They reached the Grey Warden Blackwall the next day. The location the scouts had marked had led them to a small cottage by a lake. As they approached, they saw a tall bearded man training a group of younger men. Ariana peered at them cautiously, and then a movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She silently looked at Bull, who nodded; he’d seen it too.

“There’s people hiding…” Ariana said, her voice low. Varric nodded. Vivienne raised herself up a little taller.

 

And then the bandits bounded out from behind the rocks and trees.

 

Ariana pulled her staff from her back, and she felt her magic bubble up inside her. She swung her staff over her head as she drew the electricity out of the air, using her staff as its focus point. It crackled around her, shining blue and dangerous. And then she slammed her staff to the earth, and the electricity became lightening bolts. The bolts slammed into two of the bandits closest to her, and they screamed as the lightening coursed through them. But it wasn’t enough, and the electricity left them, making them turn towards her, panting, eyes fearful and angry. She drew a shield around herself and charged another spell, this time ice. It shot out in front of her in jagged, sharp peaks, impaling one of them as the other dodged. The remaining one came towards her now, sword bared, and she readied another spell.

The felt the spell coming to her too slowly, and she could feel her shield waving. As she took a step back, preparing to dodge, the bandit was struck down by a large, heavy blade. Blood spurted out at her, covering her chest and face as he collapsed to the ground. She saw a silvery grey armed littered with scars, and she followed it up to Bull's face. He flashed her a grin before spinning back around to take care of the rest. Ariana took a shuddering breath, feeling suddenly dazed and off-kilter for reasons she couldn't name. She did her best to focus herself as she aimed her charged electricity bolt at one of the few remaining bandits. She tried not to think of the cloying, sticky feeling of the blood on her skin, or the smell of death that is carried with it.

\--

Ariana did not like Blackwall. She decided this very quickly. She didn’t like to make decisions about people so quickly, but she didn’t like the way he spoke. It was evasive. No clear answers. He said things that sounded inspiring and Warden-y, but they didn't actually answer anything. She liked things straight-forward and clear-cut. Anything else was unspeakably frustrating.

“So you know nothing about the disappearances?” Ariana said. She could imagine Leliana being disappointed. She could also imagine Leliana glaring at him. That made her feel a little better.

“No, I don’t,” he replied. “Maybe the others are up to something, and maybe I'm meant to be too. Maybe a runner got lost and that's why I don't know, but my order’s haven’t changed. I’m to recruit on my own.”

Ariana groaned and ran her palm across her scalp. It’d sounded so _exciting_ when Leliana had told her about the Wardens. The Grey Wardens seemed so amazing in the stories. And if there was something going on with them, she wanted to know too. And this guy was giving her nothing other than… Vaguely inspiring quotes, it felt like. She was sure she must’ve read the same kind of lines somewhere in a book.

“It has been nice talking with you, Warden,” she sighed, “but it appears you can’t help us. I am sorry for wasting your time.”

She tried to sound polite, but the words came out acrid and biting. She saw her companions give her a look as she turned to walk away, and she was sure she’d be getting a lecture about comporting herself from Vivienne, and a lecture from Bull about watching her tone of voice. Varric would probably just chuckle.

 

“Ah, Inquisition was it? Hold a moment,” he suddenly called out, and she turned back to him. “Maybe I can help. The Divine’s dead, demons are pouring out of the sky… Maybe you need a Warden. Maybe you need me.”

Ariana sighed. She was sure Leliana would kill her if she turned down the one Warden they’d been able to find. But he was… _annoying_ her.

“And how would you help?” she asked.

“I can fight. Maybe I don’t have experience fighting demons that come from the sky, but show me someone who does. And there are treaties. Sure, it’s not a Blight, but this bloody well is a disaster. There are some who’ll honour them.”

_Leliana probably would kill me, right?_

“All right. The Inquisition accepts your offer. Meet us in Haven when you are prepared.”

Blackwall gave a nod as she walked away.

 

As she walked away, she felt something in her mind slip. Her body became heavy, like lead. Each step a burden. Words suddenly stopped coming to her mouth, and she felt she could do little with her arms. All she could think to do was to walk forwards.

 

She felt as if she should panic. But she was too tired from the horrible, dry, claustrophobic feeling of the blood on her face, of the vagueness of the Warden, and the unexpected fight.

 

She felt the heavy leaden feeling in her blood and bones, and she let it take her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies to Blackwall fans... I can just see Blackwall getting on Ariana's nerves a lot. Do not take this as my feelings on his character!
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter! This chapter has only been edited by me, so hopefully it's not too terrible. My darling editor has a lot on his plate at the moment, and I was getting impatient about posting this.
> 
> As always, I love me some constructive criticism if you feel so inclined, but I also love any kind of comment! And you can find me on tumblr at skyholdfunk.tumblr.com!  
> Until next time!


	4. You Fall Seven Times

The change in Ariana's demeanour was subtle. Bull suspected that she had mastered hiding it from most people. She continued walking with the group, but her arms hung like dead weights at her side, disconcerting in their stillness. Her steps were flat-footed and forced, and her eyes stared blankly ahead, instead of flitting around and drinking in the landscape like they usually did. 

Bull stepped in close to her, his hand brushing against her back. She twitched slightly in response, but said northing, and didn't look at him.

“You all right there, Boss?” he asked, voice low so as not to alert Varric and Vivienne, who walked a little further in front. Ariana continued to stare blankly ahead, but her hands moved to absently run up and down one of her braids.

“Boss?”

She nodded, still not looking up.

“You didn’t seem to like that Blackwall guy.” Bull's voice was low and rumbling, laced with concern. Some part of Ariana's mind heard this, but she couldn't muster the energy to respond to it.

“Annoying,” was all she said in reply.

Bull chortled. “Well, he sure didn't seem to want to be straightforward. But if he’s a good fighter, and a Warden, then…” He shrugged. “I didn’t really trust him either. You might say you can’t read people, Boss, but I think you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

That jolted Ariana enough to finally look up at him, and she gave him a small, fleeting smile, and he frowned.

“Boss, you really don’t look okay.”

“Blood,” she said, gesturing with one hand to her face. It was still splattered there from the fight, caking on her skin. She was normally far enough away from the heat of it to get much on her. “Smells. Feels bad.” A slight shudder. 

“You’re not feeling well ‘cause of the blood?” Bull asked. There was no judgement in his voice, only concern and perhaps mild bewilderment.

“No. Also Warden. Annoying.”

She pulled her arms up and pressed them against her eyes, then immediately pulled them back down. She tried to blink, make herself more alert.

“I’m fine,” she said, and she marched ahead of Bull, body rigid and determined. Bull sighed. He didn’t need to be Ben-Hassrath for it to be painfully obvious that she was lying.

 

\--

 

Ariana talked little, other than to say they should press for as far as they could, until the reached the last forward camp they could get to before dark.

They did, a few hours before sundown. They encountered a few more bands of renegades and bandits along the way and Ariana still fought, but as Bull watched her, he noted her sloppiness, her usual precision and focus gone. Too many of her spells missed and hit trees or rocks or the grounds, and he took extra care to cut anyone down before they could make a move towards her, unsure if she would be able to stop them herself.

By the time they reached the camp, a few hours before sunset, Ariana had gone completely silent. When the Requisitions Officer tried to speak with her, she was thoroughly ignored as Ariana headed straight for the tent marked as hers by the Inquisition banner.

“Is she all right?” Varric's voice was tinged with worry below his usual lackadaisical demeanour. 

“Tired, I think. Said she had a headache,” Bull said coolly.

“We should let the poor dear rest then,” Vivienne said. “It’s been a tiresome few days. I for one could go for a nice cup of tea. Or maybe some brandy.” She wandered over to busy herself with bossing around the soldiers and scouts at the camp. Varric rolled his eyes.

“Well I’ll clean the muck off Bianca if we’ve got time to loaf around.” He seated himself near the fire pit, and began extracting various cleaning implements from his pack. Bull sat down too, but didn’t take his eyes off Ariana’s tent.

 

When Ariana emerged, her hair was mussed and her eyes were puffy. Like maybe she’d been sleeping, or trying to. She was also holding a washcloth and a bar of soap.

“Washing my face,” was all she said, before turning off towards the small spring that sat private and hidden amongst a copse of trees, not too far away from the camp.

She returned shortly after, her face and hands clean, but she still looked pained. She fussed around a bit, not sitting or standing still for more than moment, before she said, “Going for a walk,” and disappeared off into the trees.

“I don’t think she’s okay,” Varric said with a frown.

“Think I should follow her?” Bull asked.

“Well… She might be pissed. But if she is, you come back, easy, no harm done. But she seems… weird. I dunno, Tiny, it’s up to you. Don’t wanna coddle her or make her think we don’t think she can handle herself, but… she really doesn’t seem right.”

Bull nodded and stood. “I’ll try to be sneaky.”

Varric cracked a grin at him. “Now  _that_  I’d pay money to see.”

 

\--

 

Ariana sat back by the spring, teeth digging into the flesh of her palm. She wanted to scream and cry, but she was sure they’d hear her back at the camp and come running. So she bit and bit, until blood trickled across her skin and the hurt was maybe enough to make up for it.

And then she heard footsteps crunching across the ground, heavy and sure, slightly lighter on one side. She knew who it was immediately. No one else’s footfalls sounded like that. She’d travelled with him enough to have learnt most of his sounds. Shame burnt through her, clawing into her already overloaded mind, but she couldn’t will herself to get up, to move, to try and hide her hand so she didn’t have to explain. All she did was stop biting and cover her ears with her hands and curl into a ball, her face pressed into her knees.

_He can’t see me, he can’t see me, he can’t see me like this, he can’t see me--_

She felt him sit next to her, and she began to shake.

“Boss,” he said, and his voice was deep and low, like rocks shaking, threatening to tumble and roll. “You’re not doing yourself or anyone else any favours by keeping whatever the fuck is going on all bottled in.”

"I can't--" she managed to choke out, and she felt his heavy, gentle hand press against her back.

"Yes, you can. I'm telling you to. _Let it go_."

And then she sobbed, finally, a heaving racking sound that vibrated throughout her body. Bull wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against him as she cried. The pressure from his arm and the press of his body was reassuring, constant. It was almost too much. Everything was. The long day, the people, the fighting, Bull's solid gentleness.

 

_Too much, too much, too much--_

 

She felt everything dissolve away as she finally gave in and melted down.

 

\--

 

When her fists began to beat against her head, uncontrolled and unwillingly, Bull gently pulled away her hands and held them in his. He waited as she cried herself out, until her shaking stopped and she slumped down, breathing hard. It was a long stretch of minutes before Ariana felt she could move again. Everything felt sore and too sensitive, but her head felt clearer. Like she’d cried away the fog. The realisation of what had just transpired dawned on her, and she pulled her hands from his and covered her face.

“Fuck,” she said, voice small and hoarse. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t gotta be sorry.”

“I’m not… I’m not supposed to… I'm not supposed to  _be_...”

“You’re not supposed to be what?”

She choked. “I’m the Herald of Andraste. The Herald of Andraste doesn’t…” She gestured at herself. “The Herald of Andraste isn’t… this.” 

“Well, considering the only Herald of Andraste around is  _you_ , then yeah, she  _is_  this.”

“Fuck,” she said again, burying here face against her knees. “How am I going to close the breach when I can’t even… Fuck.”

“If you makes you feel better, you do a pretty damn good job at keeping your shit together most of the time.”

She let out a bitter, hoarse laugh. “Well if I can fool you of all people, I must be doing something right.”

“Nah, you don’t fool me.”

Ariana looked up at him. He gave her a look she didn’t understand.

“But, I can tell you’re trying. If you just gave up and cried all the time, that’d be a different story. But you try. Hell, even today, you were completely fucking out of it and you  _still_  tried. You gotta cry sometimes? You gotta stop and deal with whatever’s happening in your brain? It’s fine, as long as you don’t stop trying.”

Ariana sniffed and laughed as tears began to well in her eyes again. “You’re making me cry again, Bull.”

He chuckled. “Look, we’re all fucked if you completely lose it. I mean, yeah, you gotta keep going, but… Don’t push yourself too far, all right? Pushing yourself to the breaking point… It ain’t pretty.”

Ariana nodded. “All right. Thanks, Bull.”

“If you need a break or whatever, you can tell me, okay? I can make some excuse to stop. If you need someone to cry or scream at, I can do that, too."

“You, you don’t need to do that, Bull.”

“Yeah, but I’m gonna.”

Ariana took in a long, shaky breath. “O-Okay.”

 

There was a moment of silence. His arm was still around, and she leaned against him, his body warm and reassuring.

“So you okay, Boss? You needa, uh, talk?”

Ariana shook her head. “It’s just that… Everything is so much. But there’s not anything you can really do about it. It’s just how everything is. Like you said, I just need to… Keep going.”

She stood then, his arm slipping from her shoulders. She brushed off her clothes and wiped her face with her hands. He stood too.

“How bad do I look?” she asked him.

He tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eye like he was  _really_  considering her. “I think you’ll pass inspection, Boss.”

She smiled, still shaky, but more solid than before. “Well then. We’d better get back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *looks at chapter title* Why did I commit to naming each chapter. Oh well.
> 
> I managed to catch my editor when he wasn't too busy, so yay! Properly edited chapter! Next one, I might focus more on Bull and his feelings and stuff. Hmm yes. 
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments! It really means so much to me that people are enjoying my fic.


	5. Fog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry that this took so long! The end of the semester, exams, and assignments were kicking my butt and exhausting me. This is shorter than I've been wanting my chapters to be, but I just wanted to get something up! Hope you enjoy!

Bull's tent in Haven was fairly basic, but nothing he wasn't used to. And it was much fancier than what he lived in on the road. He had a nice, solid desk, and a chair that had been made specifically for his size. His bed was a specially made cot, large and hardy enough to accommodate his size and weight (and one or two more people), and at the end of it sat a chest for him to keep his few possessions. It was comfortable, and the thick canvas kept the warmth in, so he was nowhere near complaining.

When he sat at his desk, writing reports for back home, he could hear the sounds of Haven, muffled by the canvas. The dull ting of metal-on-metal from the blacksmith, the shouting from the training fields, and voices floating in from conversations near by. The people outside probably didn't think that he could make out most of what they said, but his Ben-Hassrath training had taught him to understand all but the most garbled conversations.

He wrote his reports in neat, precise letters, unemotionally and clinically stating the various going ons of the Inquisition.  Unbeknownst to Leliana's precious spies, he wrote two different letters. One was in Common, and it was the one he gave to Leliana to read before she dispatched it herself. The other was in Qunlat. He gave these letters to a young elven woman. She was plain, unassuming and unremarkable. She did not have the tattoos of the Dalish, and her hair was straight and brown, kept in a no-nonsense ponytail. Her skin was a deep tan colour, and she wasn't particularly tall. She blended in with townsfolks perfectly. The Ben-Hassrath were smart in sending her.

She told the folks here her name was Sharlia. To them, Sharlia was just a recruit, another faithful who wanted to help. She was an excellent actor.  She came to his tent at night, at erratic times and erratic days, with no rhyme or reason. It seemed like she was just another girl in Haven he slept around with. It was perfect.

 

_ (Sometimes, a guilt he couldn't name welled up inside him. He forced it down, stoic impassivity taking over. That state scared him, when all his emotions shut down like that. He could do anything in that state, anything at all... But it was better than the knife-twist feeling in his gut.) _

 

All that said, Bull made a point of never saying anything negative about Ariana. Partially, it rose from a desire to protect her from the judgement of whomever happened to read over his reports (not only Leliana, who undoubtedly knew something was not quite right with the Herald; he even didn't want to give Sharlia a negative impression), but mostly, he knew telling the folks back home that the one person who could stop the world from going to shit was losing her shit herself wouldn't be encouraging, and he didn't like to think what would happen if his superiors back in Par Vollen didn't feel encouraged. And it wasn't like Ariana couldn't handle things. She could. But he watched it all strain on her and strain until she snapped and broke down.

But she could build herself back up, he had seen that, too. Bull only worried that one day, she would break and never be able to piece herself back together again.

He didn't say anything, not to her or to the folks back home, but he silently decided that it was his job to keep her from getting to that point. He told himself that keeping her well was a part of his mission, a decision he had made in the field to keep things going smoothly. Or maybe it was the same instinct that lead him to recruit a person into the chargers; he picked the small, the broken, the outcasts, and gave them a place where they belonged and were valued. Maybe he was just doing that for Ariana? Letting her know she wasn't alone, that someone was on her side and would help her along. Yes, that was it.

 

And having the Herald of Andraste trust you was definitely not a bad thing, of course. It made his job that much easier.

 

That's what he told himself, because dwelling on any other reasons was much too uncomfortable.

 

_ (If he couldn't help it, if the thoughts kept pummelling ceaselessly against his skull, he could slip into the cool, chilly calm that made him Hissrad. He would detach, go numb. He would feel like he was standing on the outside of himself, watching himself move and act automatically, saying and doing the right things without him really being there. Like giving over the reigns to the him that could do what needed to be done, without all the pesky nuances of emotion. _

 

_ It was easier than the fear.) _

 

\--

 

Bull sat on a rock outside his tent, an oiled rag in one hand, his greatsword leaning against his knee. He was like this now, in the strange foggy land where he watched himself from the outside. He smiled at the right people and said the right greetings and the right jokes, but none of it really felt like him. This was the state he entered when he needed to be Hissrad, not The Iron Bull, but it wasn't right to be like this now. He pushed at it, trying push himself back into his body, trying to feel his flesh moving around him, but he couldn't, couldn't get back...

If he was detached and untethered, he would feel terrified.

A familiar flash of auburn hair caught Bull’s eye, and he saw Ariana storming towards him in a huff. Her face was bright red, somehow making her freckles stand out even more. Her face had been lightly sprinkled with them when they’d first met, but now her face was a forest of brown flecks against peachy white skin. He thought that the freckles made her glow. Somewhere within the fog, he almost felt fondness.

“You kinda look like you wanna kill something, Boss,” Bull heard himself say once Ariana was close enough to hear over the din of smithing and mock-fighting.

 

_(He felt something inside him screaming, No, I can’t be like this around her. What if, what if…)_

 

“Let’s practise throwing knives,” she said, too fast and abrupt to mask the anger in her voice. Something had happened, and rather than cause her to fall silent and withdraw, she was like a bomb ready to explode. She was just looking for a safe place to detonate.

That brought Bull some sense of calm. He knew how to work people out, how to help them. He could do that.

“Please,” she added, and he thought he must’ve been giving her an odd look.

“You sure?” he heard himself say, and he watched his body place the greatsword against the rock and stand up.

“I need to fight or I think I’ll explode,” she said, and he just nodded and started off towards the training area. Rather than heading towards the archery targets, Bull walked towards the open field further away. Ariana followed him, her usual nervous steps replaced with heavy, clumping ones, like the footsteps of a child silently telling her Tama how _mad_ she is.

If he’d been more in himself, he would've laughed.

He stopped once they were well into the field, far enough away from the other soldiers to not interrupt their training. Ariana looked around, curiosity beginningt to win over the anger. She then looked up at him, her hazel-green eyes searching his face with confusion.

“I thought,” he found himself saying, “that you should start learning how to fight up close. You’re not always going to be able to fight from a distance. You need to be able to defend yourself.”

Ariana nodded, looking down and biting her lip. Her fingers twitched at her side in the way they did when she was self-conscious. 

“Have you got your knife?” Bull asked.

Ariana nodded and removed it from the pouch she always wore around her waist. She looked down at the knife, then back down at Bull, her forehead creased.

“Shouldn’t I use a training knife? I don’t want to hurt you.”

Bull smiled, not quite able to manage a laugh. “Boss, you’re not gonna hurt me. I’ll just show you how to handle the knife, the stance to take, all that stuff.”

Ariana nodded, and the creases in her face smoothed out.

“Okay then, let’s try it.”

 

\--

 

Bull moved automatically, showing Ariana how to hold the knife so she could keep a grip on it, but still move flexibly. He showed her how to stab, thrust, slash, twist the knife. He pointed to different body parts where a stab or a slash would incapacitate or kill. Where a stab and a twist would cause indescribable pain. He showed her how to stand, how to protect herself before during, and after striking. She wasn’t perfect by any means. She stood awkwardly, she stumbled, she couldn’t quite hold the knife right, but by the end of it, Bull could see an improvement. 

“Enough,” Ariana had finally panted out, dropping down to the ground in an exhausted, sweaty heap. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, and then looked up at him, and a smile played on her lips.

“Thanks, Bull. I feel… I feel a lot better.”

Bull grinned down at her, and then sat at her side. He felt the cool mountain air brush against his bare skin, and heard the sounds of metal-on-metal, the shouts of mock fighting, and Ariana’s ragged intakes of breath. It was then that he realised it was him sitting there. He didn’t feel like a ghost, watching over his body in an unreal fog. He could feel his flesh move to his will, muscles rippling under skin, and the words that came out of his mouth felt like his own. He must’ve been too caught up in training Ariana to notice the transition, he thought. But he was glad. He casually swung his arm around Ariana’s shoulder, and pulled her against him. She let out an undignified squawk, before dissolving into giggles as Bull began laughing, joyful and uproarious.

 

It was okay. 

 

He was okay.

 

_(You could’ve hurt her, you could’ve lost control. What if, what if...)_

 

 

—

 

“So what was the problem, Boss?” Bull asked Ariana later, as they sat in the warm glow of the tavern’s fireplace, each nursing a bowl of stew, and a strong ale and weak mead, respectively. 

“Huh?” Ariana said, her voice muffled by mouthful of stew-dipped bread.

“When you came saying you needed to fight. What was up?”

Ariana sighed, setting down her spoon and raking her hand through her hair, pulling some of it out of her now-loosening braids. 

“I had a fight with Cullen.”

Bull raised a conspiratorial eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?”

She blinked at him. “I wouldn’t call Haven paradise, even if that's what the name suggests.”

Bull snorted out a laugh, “No, uh, that phrase means… I was implying you and Cullen were a couple having a spat.”

Ariana looked mortified. “No! I would never… No! I mean, he’s okay, I guess, but…” She visibly shuddered. “No.”

“Sorry Boss, I was just teasing,” Bull said a little apologetically.

Ariana shook her head, “No, it’s okay, Bull. I’m not mad.” She sighed. “Anyway, we disagreed about who to seek an alliance with. I’m a mage, so of course I said the mages. They’re my people. They want freedom, and they want to prove that they’re not dangerous. I said that this is the perfect opportunity to show that they can be trusted! But Cullen said… in slightly gentler words, he said that I’m an idiot and mages can’t be trusted.” She spat out that last bit, her anger rekindling. “Like I don’t know the things that Templars do… Even if I was never hurt, it’s not like I don’t know.”

Bull considered her for a moment. “I thought you liked the Circle.” 

Ariana sighed yet again. The tired, strained sound did… things to Bull’s chest. He ignored it.

“I did,” Ariana answered, “But… I don’t know. I liked it because it was familiar. Because it was home. Because they let me pursue my research and didn’t bother me. Because I could do the same thing everyday and no one cared. The Templars ignored me because everyone considered me too strange and incompetent to ever be dangerous, and too fixated on my studies to be interesting.”

Bull scoffed. “Well they were idiots. You’re plenty interesting.”

Ariana smiled weakly. “Thanks, Bull. But… Because no one really noticed me, I heard things. They said things around me, knowing that I had barely anyone to repeat them to. And… I didn’t like what I heard. But I ignored it, because I was happy. And I chose my own happiness over the happiness of others.”

Ariana blinked, and felt a tear roll down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away with her sleeve, not knowing how she’d become so emotional, not realising how intensely she felt.

“So, I won’t be selfish now. I won’t let them suffer any longer. They are my people, and I will save them.” 

Ariana stared pointedly down at the table, and Bull saw a fire in her eyes so deep and ferocious that he was sure that nothing could drench it.

 

It was in that moment that his doubts about her began to dissolve away.

 

_(What if, what if…)_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bull canonically has PTSD and I would like to believe he disassociates as a coping mechanism. I also read some meta about how the Qunari would absolutely send a spy into Haven to secretly take non-censored reports back to Par Vollen, and I quite liked that idea, so that's why I included that detail.
> 
> Also apologies to Cullen fans.
> 
> As always, I love comments and concrit! And you can find me at skyholdfunk.tumblr.com. Thank you for all the views, kudos, and bookmarks! I feel so happy every time I see them!


	6. Scales

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! Thank you for all your kudos, comments, and support! =D

Sera had taken up residence in the tavern, sleeping in the small attic room where surplus bags of flour and grain were kept. In little time she became a fixture there, only leaving for missions. She sat at her little table, drinking ale and laughing with everyone who stopped to talk to her. Well… No, not everyone. Really, Sera couldn’t stand half the people in Haven. But to Ariana, she always looked like she was smiling. Always looked like she was laughing at a joke that only she knew.

They’d met in Orlais, when Vivienne had dragged Ariana to Val Royeux for some horribly pretentious party. Ariana had slipped away from it the moment Vivienne was distracted. Then she’d found this arrow, and, well, things had progressed unusually from there.

(“Darling, going to society events only helps your image if you are actually social,” Vivienne had said afterwards. Ariana had wanted to snap back with, “I don’t particularly care what a bunch if idiots in masks and impractical clothing think,” but she at least knew better than to externalise that thought.) 

But really, Sera was a million times more interesting than an Orlesian party. She was very confusing, and sometimes frustrating because she just seemed unable to say things straight, but… There was something non-judgemental about her, too. Ariana’s constant fidgeting, or dislike of eye contact didn’t seem to perturb her at all. In fact, when Sera was standing about, Ariana noticed her rocking back and forth on her feet, saw her fingers flicking… Sera’s mere existence gave Ariana some sense of camaraderie. Like she wasn’t alone in her strangeness.

And after a few weeks, Ariana was beginning to be able to decode Sera. A fluttering feeling filled her chest as she kept up with Sera’s meandering train of thought. New discoveries were always exciting.

 

—

 

The day after Ariana had come back from Orlais, with Vivienne and Sera in tow, Bull had surprised her with a present.

“Hey, Boss,” he’d said, a smug grin on his face when she came on her daily visit.

“Hi Bull!” Ariana exclaimed, jumping on her toes and flapping her hands excitedly. He always seemed to smile fondly at her when she did those kind of things.

“Hey, so while you were away, I got you a lil’ something…” Bull nodded towards the training field, and Ariana responded by nodding and starting towards the expanse of hard packed earth and dry, scraggly brown grass.

“Okay,” Bull said, “close your eyes and hold out your hands. Yeah, but hold them flat, palms up.”

Ariana obeyed, and suddenly she felt a long object placed across her palms. 

“Don’t open your eyes yet,” Bull said. “I want you to guess what it is.”

Ariana gingerly balanced it on one palm, gently brushing her fingers across the object.

“It’s made of wood,” Ariana said. “It feels lacquered. There’s… ornate carving, lots of swirls. that… almost feels like a blade? And a handle… It feels like scales. Is this a wooden knife?”

“You got it!” Bull exclaimed proudly, and Ariana snapped her eyes open. With a delighted gasp she took the handle and made a few simple movements with the knife, testing its weight and fluidity of movement.

“It’s amazing, Bull,” she said, awestruck. “It’s weighted just like my knife too, and all the beautiful curves and lines on it… When did you get this done? Where?”

“I get along with the carpenter, asked ‘im if he could make it special. It wasn’t a big deal. I figured, if we’re gonna practise up-close sparring, a practice knife is probably best so you don’t actually stab me in the kidney.”

Ariana snorted. “Bull, I think you’d have me in a chokehold before I could get a blade anywhere near your kidneys.”

“At least that’s an advantage of physical weapons over magic. Stabbed in the kidneys is a slightly less horrifying way to go than being roasted or frozen.”

“I guess you’re not wrong,” Ariana replied with a shrug. “I would rather not go at all.”

Bull chuckled. “That’s the spirit! Right, well, we’ll go over the basic techniques, and then we’ll practise.”

Ariana frowned. “I know it’s not sharp, but… I still won’t accidentally hurt you, will I?”

“Boss, I would like you to take a good look at me and ask yourself that question again.”

Ariana sized him up and down, tracing over the myriad of silvery scars that lined his skin. She looked at his eyepatch, and at the hints of scar tissue that it didn’t quite cover up.

Then she looked down at the wooden practice knife. “You make a fair point. All right, then. Let’s go.”

Bull nodded. “All right. Imagine that I’m a simple, ill-equipped bandit. I’m wearing thin leather armour and wielding a basic sword. How would you try to get at me with a knife?”

“…I would use magic?”

“Okay, assuming you can’t use your magic for whatever reason.”

Ariana considered carefully, turning the wooden knife over and over in her hands, running her fingers over the intricate carvings.

“I think, I would want to be out of the way of their sword, so I would try to get behind them… If their armour was thin, would I be able to stab through it?”

“Sure. If we assume it’s proper armour, it’ll be treated in wax. Makes slashing or stabbing through it a tad more difficult, so you gotta be persistent. But if you’re accurate and direct, you can get through.”

Ariana nodded.

“So,” Bull continued, “Where would you try and stab them?”

“I don’t think from the front. If they have a sword, they can get me from there. So I would try to get behind them, I guess?”

Bull nodded approvingly. “Good. How would you get behind them?”

“Uh… Dodge the sword, move quickly?”

Bull nodded again. “Wait here.”

Ariana didn’t have time to respond before he walked away to the main training area, where the soldiers clashed in mock fights. He returned shortly, after having an oddly long conversation with the man in charge of the training equipment, with a wooden practise sword in his hand.

“Okay,” Bull said, raising the sword in front of him and grinning devilishly. “Try ’n get me.”

 

Ariana watched Bull for a moment, before ducking to the left, crouching down low to the ground, quickly stepping around him… But she didn’t get far before she felt the wooden sword tap against her side. She stopped at looked up at Bull, whose grin felt nothing but predatory.

“That was too obvious, Boss. Trying to be sneaky and fast doesn’t help if your opponent can tell where you’re going to be.”

“Is everyone going to be as perceptive as you, Bull?”

Bull shrugged. “Probably not. But do you really want to risk it on the off chance that they are?”

Ariana sighed. “No, I do not.”

“Right. So what can you do to confuse me?”

“I… Can pretend to go one way and then go the other?”

“Very good. Give it a shot.”

“But you’ll know what I’m going to do.”

“Yes, but I’ll act like I don’t.”

“…All right then.”

Ariana readied the knife, and lunged towards Bull. He swung at her with the practice sword, but Ariana stepped away around his side, running the wooden knife across his rib cage. She pulled back, and Bull turned to grin down at her.  
“Good job, Boss. All right, let’s do that again.”

 

—

 

Ariana headed back to her cabin feeling both tired and energetic, excited that she seemed to be doing okay at learning to fight with a knife. Lost in her thoughts, grinning to herself, she didn’t realise the two people standing in her path until she walked right into them.

“Oh! Maker, I’m so sorry!” Ariana exclaimed, reaching her arms out to steady the girl who had stumbled forward. The pair turned around to face her.

“Oh no, it’s all right. We shouldn’t have been standing in the middle of the path,” the boy replied.

The girl had dark brown skin and a cloud of loose, curly black hair. In contrast, the boy’s skin was pale to the point where Ariana could see blue veins in his forehead, and his hair was a faded yellow. They both wore somewhat worn looking robes, and both carried travel sacks, and rather obvious mage staffs on their backs.

“Are you two all right?” Ariana asked, eyeing the things they were carrying. “Have you just arrived?”

“Yes, actually,” the girl replied. “We were told to report to someone called Commander Cullen, but we can’t find him, and no one we stop to ask knows or cares to talk to us.”

“He wasn’t down near the training grounds, outside the gate?”

“We were told he’d be there, but the soldiers said they haven’t seen him since this morning,” the boy answered.

Ariana jumped suddenly, startling the pair. “Oh! Yes, I know, he’s probably in the Chantry! I remember that Josephine had to talk to him about something. Here, follow me!”

“Oh… Well, thank you,” the girl said unsurely. “So, um, I guess you know the people in charge, then?”

“Oh yes, they’re my friends,” Ariana replied. “Oh, I didn’t ask for your names! I’m Ariana.”

“Ariana,” the girl repeated. “Well, I’m Miriam, and this is Tom.”

“You’re mages, right? So am I!”

“Oh? You’re not carrying your staff,” Tom said.

“Ah, I’m not fighting today, so it’s not a problem. Were you two from the Circles, or did you come from Redcliffe?”

“We did come from Redcliffe, because we wanted to join you lot up here. The Rebels… don’t seem to be doing anything. Actually, things got a bit weird,” Miriam replied haltingly. “What about you?”

Ariana hesitated, realising they didn’t know who she once. But then, she felt relieved. “I was here at the Conclave, actually. My family, er, is noble, so they were very excited to send their mage daughter off as an ambassador.” She tried not to sound _too_ bitter.

“And you survived?” Tom asked, sounding shocked.

“Uh, I managed to be far enough away from the blast that I was all right.”

“Well, makes sense that you’d be rubbing elbows with the higher ups if you’re a noble,” Miriam said with a snort.

“Uh, we don’t really rub our elbows…”

“So who’s this Commander Cullen fellow anyway?” Tom asked. Ariana glanced up at him. He had bright blue eyes, almost clear like glass, and blonde eyelashes. She looked away quickly, but she did think he was very pretty.

“Oh, I think he used to be a Templar Knight-Commander, but he’s left the order now. I don’t think he liked it very much. But he has a lot of experience from that, so… He’s good at being a commander, even if I don’t always agree with him.”

 

Ariana had kept walking and talking, not realising that Tom and Miriam had stopped dead in their tracks behind her. She turned, and Tom was glaring at her. Miriam had her hand on his shoulder, looking worried.

“D-Did I say something wrong?” Ariana asked, bringing her hands up to her chest and fretting with her fingers.

“I though the Inquisition was led by a mage?” Tom asked, his voice angry and hot.

“I-It is! Kind of! The Herald, ah, she is a mage! But she’s from the Circle, just like… just like us. She doesn’t have any kind of experience managing soldiers, so that’s why… I can guarantee you that she supports the freedom of mages, so you don’t need to worry!”

Tom shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Tom, listen to her,” Miriam said, stepping in front of him and gripping both his shoulders. “The Herald supports us! She doesn’t want mages to be kept in Circles anymore. And this commander is an _ex-_ templar. He left the order, so you don’t need to worry. Do you really think a _real_ templar would work with a mage? Would accept her as being sent by Andraste? Of course they wouldn’t! So Tom, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

But Tom just stood in place, shaking his head.

Ariana froze in place. She didn’t know what to say, what could make any of this better.  
“Um… Maybe… I think, if you go the fire circle outside the Chantry up there, you can find Thrask. She’s, um the Quartermaster, and she can get you guys a tent. Maybe, um, that would be good, and then you can deal with everything else later. And if Thrask gives you any trouble, tell her the Herald sent you.”

“Wait, what—” Miriam started, but Ariana was already running away.

 

—

 

“Herald!” a familiar voice called as Ariana attempted to make it to the village gates. She stopped in her tracks, turning to face where he sat by the fire he liked to occupy. She looked at him, helplessly flapping her hands. He beckoned for her to come over, and then gestured for her to sit.

“Okay, so I just saw you walk into two mage kids, have a conversations, freak the hell out, and run away. What’s up.”

“I don’t know what to do,” she said, too fast. “I, I was trying to help, and I mentioned that Cullen used to be a templar and the boy freaked out and I tried to reassure him but I couldn’t? And now… Now, I don’t know. I think a templar must’ve done something to him, he can’t even trust someone who used to be one! What do I do?”

“Whoa, okay, slow down, kid,” Varric said, holding up his hands. “What exactly do you want to do?”

“How do I help? I, I was thinking… We need to close the Breach, and I have invitations from both the mages and templars to discuss the matter, but… I don’t know. I was thinking the mages, they’re my people, I feel like I should protect them. But maybe, they don’t have battle training, and the templars would be better at fighting and more disciplined. But, I don’t know… I don’t know what is right, Varric. I was there when the mages voted on whether to separate or stay with the Circles. My family sent me to the Conclave as am ambassador. I have seen the different sides. And even though I liked the Circle and I was happy, I… I don’t know. How do I know what is right?”

 

“Well that’s a hell of a lot of questions, kid,” Varric said with a sigh. “You want my honest opinion? I was in in Kirkwall when the mage rebellion started. I saw the things that happened on mages in the Circle there. I also saw what mages did in the name of freedom. What I think? The mages deserve a break. They deserve someone who gives half a shit about them. And you seem to do that.”

Ariana nodded, gazing into the fire. “What was it like in Kirkwall? When the war started?”

“You I wrote a book about that right? Anyway, a mage would know more than me. Why not talk to Madame de Fer? Or Solas?”

“Solas was never in a Circle. And we know what Lady Vivienne thinks,” Ariana sighed. “You were there in Kirkwall, Varric. Can I hear it from you? Please?”

“Aah, all right. I can never resist the urge to talk about myself. It all started when…”

 

—

 

It was mid morning the next day, just when the sun was beginning to warm the cold earth and Haven was slowly swelling with activity, that Ariana walked nervously up to Vivienne, flicking the the end of one of her braids back and forth. Vivienne was elegantly reclined back in her chaise lounge, a book delicately poised in her hand. How she managed to make a mundane task like reading look so regal, Ariana would never be able to guess.

“What is it, dear?” Vivienne asked before Ariana had even begun to speak, not looking up from her book.

“Um,” Ariana started, “I was wondering, I have invitations from both the Templars and the Rebel Mages for an alliance, but… I am wishing to ally with the Mages. I wanted to ask you to accompany me to Redcliffe.”

Vivienne sighed. She slid a blue tasseled bookmark into her book and snapped it shut. She fluidly swung her legs over the side of the chaise, and gestured for Ariana to sit in the armchair opposite. Ariana scurried to comply.

“Please, my dear, tell me _why_ you think this is a good idea?” Vivienne asked, folding her hands in her lap and gazing at Ariana with an almost eerie calm.

“Um, well—” Ariana began, before Vivienne cut her off with a raised hand.

“Never start a statement of opinion with hesitation. If you wish to convince others, you must show them no hint of uncertainty. Try again, dear. Plainly tell me your reasoning.”

Ariana nodded, swallowing and trying again. “I am a mage. Unlike many of my fellow mages, I was happy and comfortable in the Circle. However, my time in the Inquisition has shown me many of the, um… injustices, that’s the world. Injustices that my fellow mages suffered in the Circles. I think I was only safe because I was too stupid to be picked on, or because the Grand Enchanter liked me, or… I don’t know. I can’t seem to find any reasons. But, the mages are sad and scared and hurt. I want to show them that they can have somewhere safe, where they can practice their magic in safety, without fear of the abuses I’ve heard too much of. I want… I want to keep them safe. I feel a duty towards them. So… That’s why.”

 

Vivienne nodded, considering Ariana carefully. “That’s all very noble my dear, but you are thinking with your emotions, not your mind. Magic is dangerous. We must not let a group of wild, untrained mages run around our organisation unchecked. We have rules and order for a reason, to keep danger in check. I am sorry you have been manipulated by our peers, my dear, but you have to see that we simply can’t have a reckless band of angry mages running about. It’s basically begging for abominations.”

Ariana shook in her seat, face reddening. “They won’t be… not in check. There are enough templars around here to keep any abominations from happening. And anyway, if mages are so dangerous, isn’t it better to keep the rebels where we can monitor them? They could become an army of abominations in Redcliffe if no one can keep them in check! It makes more sense to me to have them here.”

“And I have to vehemently disagree. The Templars can do just as well in closing the breach, _and_ they have actual battle training and experience. The mages? Well, not so much. They would be only a danger and a burden to the Inquisition. No matter what you say my dear, I cannot agree with you.”

 

Ariana took a deep, shaking breath. “Then I will ask someone else to accompany me. I know Leliana and Cassandra agree with me. I know others will follow me if I ask. So… Regardless of if I have your approval, I am doing it.” 

Vivienne gave Ariana a deep measured look. Ariana wanted nothing more than to run away.  
“Be it on your head then, my dear,” she said, waving her hand in dismissal and re-opening her book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Vivienne Greatly Disapproves.)
> 
> Again, shoutout to haemoheretic for making me get rid of a horrible hamfisted chunk in the middle. Beta readers are important.


	7. Stepping Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINALLY UPDATED. I'm sorry it was over a month! I hope you enjoy this chapter! I'm loving the comments and kudos, they give me life, so thank you!

Ariana stood in a dark, dank room. Below her, the stone floor was covered in a blanket of thick black grime. She looked closely and it, and saw that amongst the grime were curdled, brown poodles of blood. The room stank of rotting flesh, and though Ariana couldn’t see anything outside of the small patch of the room that she occupied, she knew that there were many terrible things hidden in the darkness. She took a few tentative step forward, and suddenly the ground shook. The stones surrounding her cracked and flew from their place in the floor, and in their place rose great towers of red crystal that trapped her, like a cage. The red crystals glowed sickeningly, and almost felt like… They sang to her, called her, begged her to come closer.

She wanted nothing more than to run away.

 

She ran to the edge of the crystal ring, searching desperately for an escape. Any gap in the crystal cage that she could squeeze through.

 

And then something else materialised in the crystals. Shapes. People. No, not just people. Her companions her friends. She froze.

 

She saw Sera, her legs trapped in the red rock, red crystals sprouting from her shoulders, from her head, from her eyes. \

She saw Vivienne, everything but her head submerged in crystal. A steady stream of tiny red rocks spilled from her open mouth. 

Cassandra, impaled, a spear of glowing crystal where her heart should be. 

Solas, staring impassive, half his face taken up by ragged red. 

Blackwall, face thrust towards the sky as crystal jutted from his mouth.

Iron Bull, his one remaining eye replaced by the glowing crystal, and it felt like it was piercing her down to her core, and she screamed.

The crystals around her shattered, and she saw her escape and ran. And then a strong arm was wrapped around her waist. She struggled, trying to continue forward. 

“You can’t!” a voice called. “We need to stay right here.”

Ariana looked in front of her, and saw a large, stone room, with wooden doors flung open across from her. There, she saw Bull, Sera, and Solas fighting men encrusted in red, like congealed blood. 

She watched, as a sword speared Sera’s neck. 

She watched as Solas was peppered with arrows. 

She watched as Bull took one too many blows, more than he could power through… And he fell to the ground.

 

More than anything else, seeing The Iron Bull fall made her want to run, to fight. She felt like someone had wrapped a piece of string around her throat and pulled. Everything hurt, and she couldn’t breath, but the arm around her waist pulled her back. She collided against a soft body that smelled of musky perfume and blood. She clung to the person’s clothes, struggling for air, before the two of them disappeared in a burst of white light.

 

—

 

Waking up from nightmares wasn’t like in novels Ariana sometimes read. She didn’t bolt upright, panting. Rather, her eyes opened slowly. She stared up at the ceiling, suddenly acutely aware that she was not in a familiar place.

Time to take stock. The ceiling above her appeared to be wood. So her eyes worked. Then she worked on feeling her limbs, one by one, noticing where they were, where they connected to her body, what they felt like. She felt the mark flicker and crackle in her palm, reacting to her emotions and casting an eerie green like throughout the room, even through the quilt. She felt the bedclothes, and then her nightdress, and her hair and skin and the flutter of her eyelids. Finally, she sat up and looked around the room. It definitely wasn’t her hut in Haven. The walls were stone, and the room was much too large. Where was she?

 

_Redcliffe Castle_ , a small voice in the back of her mind whispered. _Where you nearly let everyone die._

 

She felt like she'd been doused in cold water. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, pulling her knees up to her chest. She fixed her eyes on a spot on the quilt, trying not to think. 

She still had the tight, choking feeling in her throat. She'd let them, die, she'd let them _die_. They had died for her, and she'd let them.

But even so, it was the unbidden imagine of Bull's blood across his chest, his dull, empty eye gazing out of his skull that finally made her make a horrible, pained choking noise as she began to cry.

She didn’t understand why it was only Bull’s death that had made her feel like that. Seeing everyone else fall made her feel raw and numb, like someone had scooped out her insides and made her unable to feel. But Bull… It had felt like she was going to die with him. It felt like she was falling as he was, that her organs had been just as torn and her blood was spilling out against the stones.

 

What had happened then?

 

King Alistair had arrived, and demanded that everyone stay in Redcliffe until everything got sorted out. She’d been too numb and shocked to do anything other than nod. Solas had had to step in, announce that the Inquisition was planning to take the mages in as their own. She couldn’t will herself to speak. She’d still been clinging to the Tevinter mage -- Dorian, that was his name -- and he'd had to awkwardly manoeuvre her towards her companions. She groaned, thinking she would have to apologise for that later. She’d have to apologise to _everyone_. She’d been in the presence of the king of all people, and she’d been unable to speak, to even move by herself. 

 

But everything else had just been dim background noise to the red glow that encompassed everything.

 

Ariana swung herself over the side of the bed, her feet hitting the cold floorboards. She glanced around the room to locate the candles, and ignited them with a wave of her hand. She padded over the washbasin, which stood on an ornate wooden vanity, and poured out the water from the cold jug. She washed her face, relishing in the cleansing feeling it send flooding through her. Her face was red and puffy, and she looked like absolute hell.

 

There was a soft knock suddenly, not startling, but loud enough that it resonated throughout the room. She padded softly towards the door.

“Yes?” she called out.

“It is I,” she heard a familiar voice call. Solas. “May I come in?”

“Y-Yes, of course.” Ariana quickly looked around the room, and saw the outer layer of her robe draped over a chest at the end of the bed. She grabbed it and wrapped it around herself, hiding the outline of her skinny frame that the nightdress showed off.

Solas entered, wearing a loose shirt over brown leggings. 

“Is everything all right?” Ariana asked.

“Yes, I am fine. I am more concerned about you. May we sit?” Solas gestured towards the nearby table, where two comfortable chairs sat waiting. Ariana nodded and nervously took a seat.

“When others dream, I can feel it," Solas started without prompting. "If I wish, I can enter their dreams quite easily. I… Felt your dream. It was not a pleasant one. I did not enter it as I did not wish to intrude, but I could feel the sorrow and despair. If I am to be honest, the strength of your emotion called forth despair and fear demons. However, I was able to… persuade them to leave.”

“Oh,” Ariana said, feeling stunned on top of everything else. “Thank you.”

“I understand,” Solas continued, “that you and Dorian saw what would come to pass should the Inquisition fail, yes?”

“Yes. Did he tell you?”

“He did. He was, ah… More responsive than you were. Which certainly is understandable, if what he described is true.”

“You don’t think he told the truth?”

“One must be skeptical of strangers, at times. But, given the emotion from your dream… Yes, I believe that what he said is true. But I want to hear it from you.”

Ariana shook her head. “I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t. It’s… I can’t. I close my eyes, and all I can see is… Glowing red. I see death and it hurts. I don’t understand why it hurts so much.”

“I believe that is a natural reaction to seeing your companions die in front of you.”

Ariana let out a choked noise. “How do you know? Have you seen it? Have you seen people you cared about die?”

“I have,” Solas replied quietly. Ariana instantly felt a hot spike of regret. 

“It is never easy," he continued, "but know that your hurt is not uncommon, nor does it make you weak. However, you must not let your emotions drive you to inaction. Use the power they give you to continue on forward. Know that you must prevent what you have seen.”

Ariana nodded and sniffed, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her robe. If Solas found that disgusting, he gave no indication. He simply sat and waited. His silence was companionable, and Ariana suddenly felt glad for it. He seemed to be a man who saw the value of silence.

 

“Solas,” she said after a while, “do you believe in the Maker?”

“I do.”

“Oh.”

“Is that surprising?”

“No, just, um… I don’t want to seem offensive…”

“Ah, because I am an elf? No, I do not share the beliefs of the Dalish, if that is what you are asking. To put it simply, I find the thought of an ultimate entity, a divine ruler, subtly pulling at the strings… I find that comforting. Maybe I do not believe in the way the Chantry would intend, but nonetheless, I believe in something like the Maker. And what of you?”

“Of course I do! I just… I wonder, do you think the Maker made this happen? That He wanted me to see that future, so I would know how important it is to stop it? If… If it really was Andraste that saved me from the Fade… I don’t know. Just. Time travel seems so implausible, I can’t help but think… The Maker intended this. He wanted me to know how much is at stake. Does that sound ridiculous?”

“I do not think so. It seems a likely way of thinking, if you are a person of faith.”

“I… I want to be brave. I want to stop that future, but I feel so scared.”

“Again, that is natural. I would be lying if I said that I did not also feel fear. But fear can lead us forward. It can fuel determination. No matter what, you cannot give up.”

 

Ariana nodded, them looked at Solas and smiled. “I… Thank you. I actually feel better. Thank you for coming, Solas. You didn’t have to. I didn't expect it.”

“Think nothing of it. I consider you my friend. I was simply helping.”

“Then thank you. What about you? Are you okay?”

“This whole matter is troubling, but yes, but I am fine. You have enough on your plate without concering yourself with me.”

“Well it’s not really fair if I only think about myself," Ariana said quietly.

“At the moment, I think you can afford to be selfish. On that note, I should leave you to sleep. And I will admit, I have been learning some interesting things from the Fade spirits here, and I do not wish to keep them.”

“Of course,” Ariana said, standing and smiling as he left. “Goodnight, Solas.”

“Goodnight, Herald.”

 

—

 

Ariana did not sleep. The moment she lay down again in the soft feather bed, she knew it would be impossible.

 

_I want Bull._

 

The thought came to her suddenly, and it felt like fire washed against her skin. 

_I want Bull._

If she closed her eyes, she could feel the memory of his arm around her shoulder, his body weight pressing into her. How calming and reassuring the simple presence of him felt. He was like a rock, saving her from drowning in the sea. 

 

_I want Bull_.

 

Hadn’t Solas come to comfort her? Wasn’t that enough? 

But if Bull was a rock in the ocean, Solas was a distant light house. Comforting, but far away. Something she couldn’t reach even if she swam as hard as she could. But Bull was real, tactile, easy to reach.

 

She got up again, shrugging her robe back on, and stepped quietly into the hallway. It was cold, but there was some heat from the lamps on the walls. 

She wandered down the hallway, not sure with the doors would lead to The Iron Bull’s room. Were their rooms even all in the same place?

She considered making a guess and knocking, but an anxiety gripped her at the thought of waking the others, and at the thought of them seeing her be so weak. Instead, she kept walking silently down the hall, listening to the quiet sounds of the castle, thinking of how, had she and Dorian failed, these hallways would likely be filled with death.

 

She eventually came to the point where her hallway intersected with another, and she felt something call her down it. Not a voice, more a feeling, like something tugging at her gut. So she followed.

The lamplit hallway continued, until she came to a door that was slightly ajar. Soft light glowed from behind the door, and the soft, smokey smell of candles and incense tinged the air. Ariana pushed the door open to peek inside, and saw that she had found a small chapel.

 

Ariana stepped inside. On each side of the room were rows of wooden pews, with a clear aisle in the centre. At the front stood a tall stone statue of Andraste, lit in a soft glow by the candles at its base. Behind the statue were stained glass windows that showed the first time Andraste saw the Maker. The sight of the moonlight filtering through the glass and mingling with the candlelight was beautiful enough to make her hold her breath.

 

Ariana carefully padded towards the statue, looking up at Andraste’s stony face. Andraste always looked so strong in the art made of her. Resilient and fiery, bold and strong. Ariana closed her eyes, and remembered the Chantry in the Circle. The incense the sisters would light for each service. The glow of candlelight, and the soft, melodic chanting when the sisters came to sing. She remembered sitting in the Chantry when everything felt chaotic, feeling the peace and calm settle into her bones. It was as if the Maker was whispering to her, calming her heart. Sometimes, when she was having bad days or weeks, it felt like the only thing that kept her from screaming.

 

She thought of the Chant, and what verses she could remember. She could recall lot now, a lot more than before. She’d read over the Chant so many times to see if there was any clue to her truly being chosen that they'd started to become imprinted upon her mind. She hadn’t found her answers, but she could easily call to mind a multitude of verses right.

 

Eyes still closed, she clasped her hands in front of her heart, bowed her head, and began reciting.

 

“O Maker, hear my cry. Guide me through the blackest nights. Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked. Make me to rest in the warmest places. 

 

“O Creator, see me kneel. For I walk only where You would bid me. Stand only in places You have blessed. Sing only the words You place in my throat. 

 

“My Maker, know my heart. Take from me a life of sorrow. Lift me from a world of pain. Judge me worthy of Your endless pride.

 

“My Creator, judge me whole. Find me well within Your grace. Touch me with fire that I be cleansed. Tell me I have sung to Your approval.

 

O Maker, hear my cry. Seat me by Your side in death. Make me one within Your glory. And let the world once more see Your favour.

 

For You are the fire at the heart of the world, and comfort is only Yours to give.”

Ariana was still for a long, blissful moment. She felt something like calm settle across her chest.

 

She then heard a quiet rustle from behind her that broke her from her reverie. She spun to see Bull seated in one of the far pews.

“How long have you been there?” Ariana asked abruptly.

“Eh, long enough to hear you praying,” Bull replied.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Heard your footsteps in the hall, and I was worried about you after that time travelling shit. Came to see if you’re all right.”

“You know what my footsteps sound like?”

Bull grinned. “Ben-Hassrath, remember?”

Ariana stared at him for another moment, and then walked over to where he sat. Bull slid along the pew so Ariana could fit next to him.

“It’s so easy to forget that you’re a spy,” Ariana said quietly. “You’re not like what anyone imagines a spy to be, I don’t think. I mean, spies don’t _say_ they’re spies, do they?”

“Like I said, Red would’ve figured it out pretty quickly. She’s a sharp one. Plus, hey, if you think I'm honest, you'll trust me with your secrets, right?” He gave her a toothy grin, and there was a dangerous glint in his eye.

“…That’s very manipulative," Ariana said slowly.

“Yep. Ben-Hassrath.”

“Then, are you manipulating me?”

Ariana looked up at Bull, and he looked down at her, his face unreadable.

“I manipulate everyone,” he said after a long pause. “Everyone does. You want people to like you, so you say what they want to hear. You want people to fear you, so you use your body language and your voice to do that. You want people to trust you, so you tell them just enough about yourself to make them want to open up too. I’m just honest about the fact that I do it.”

Ariana looked across at Andraste’s statue, running her fingers along her braid and chewing her lip. She noticed that her braid was much neater than it should be, and was free of flecks of blood. She was suddenly aware that someone must have bathed and dressed her, and put her to bed. She couldn't remember any of it.

 

“Can you teach me?” Ariana said after the silence had stretched out for a few long minutes.

“I can teach you a lot of things, Boss. You gotta be more specific.”

“To… I don’t want to say to manipulate people, but…” she turned to look back at him. “I’m scared, Bull. Things… Things are deeper than we knew. There’s so much more than a strange magical explosion that tore open the sky, so much more than this mark on my hand… But I’m important. I think, I know the Maker must have chosen me, must have sent Andraste to save me from the explosion. I don’t know why, but I don’t think why matters anymore. I am here, and that is all I can know. But now, so many people are relying on me. I can’t let them see that I am scared, or that I am weak. I need to be able to fool people like you do, Bull.”

 

Bull took a long, horrible, silent moment to answer. Ariana closed her eyes and listened to the dull, distant sounds of the castle, to her and Bull’s breathing, to the creak of the pew and the low, crackling sounds of the fire in the lanterns.

“You’re a funny one, Boss,” Bull said, voice low and tone unreadable. “Most people would be freaking out in your place.”

“You say that like I’m not already?”

“No. What I mean is, you are freaking out but you are still trying. Trying to make yourself stronger, trying to keep dealing with all of it. You were frozen, unable to speak when you reappeared with the ‘Vint, and now you’re saying you want me to teach you how to control your body language and voice… You’d’ve made a good Ben-Hassrath, I think.”

Ariana laughed, then. “Bull, I would’ve been a _terrible_ Ben-Hassrath. Plus, the whole mage thing would’ve ruined that.”

“Yeah, uh, that would be a problem in the whole ‘Make Ariana a Badass Spy’ plan.”

“Hey, I can still be a badass spy! Just not a Qunari one.”

“Hmm. Though, you’d look pretty good wearing a collar…”

Ariana felt like she’d been hit with an electric shock at that, and she felt her face grow warm.

“Bull!” she exclaimed. “I-I would not! And it’s terrible how you treat your mages, don’t even joke about that.” But even so, she smiled. “Sorry, that was probably a harsh thing to say…”

“Yeah, well…” Bull said sheepishly, “I can definitely see how the life of a saarebas would be unappealing. I’m not gonna disagree with you on how we treat our mages. But I still think you’d look _good_.”

The way Bull emphasised  _good_ did odd things to Ariana's stomach. She decided that now was not the best time to think about it.

“I don’t even know how to deal with you sometimes, Bull," she said, Ariana shaking her head furiously, her fingers running rapidly down her braid. "You say things like that, what am I supposed to do?”

“Well, you can keep being embarrassed and flustered, ‘cause that’s pretty cute. Or you can flirt back. Or you can tell me to stop. Or you can just not react. Or you say something snarky… I dunno, whatever you wanna do.”

Ariana was silent for a moment. “So you’re flirting with me.”

“Yep.”

“…Why?”

“Why? Because it’s fun. Don’t tell me you don’t find flirting fun, Boss.”

“I’m not entirely sure I know _how_ to flirt. I don’t think I’ve ever done it.”

“Well, I’ll add that to the list of things to teach you.”

Ariana covered her face with her hands. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation in a chapel, in front of Andraste.”

“But you’re laughing now, right, Boss? You look less like you've had the shit kicked out of you.”

Ariana smiled up at Bull. His face looked gentle. “Yeah, I guess I am laughing. I… I am sorry about how I was when Dorian and I re-appeared. I… I… I saw things, I couldn’t… I was in a fog. Everyone was so far away.”

 

Bull pressed his hand into Ariana’s back, and it felt warm, firm and grounding. “Nah, I get it. The ‘Vint - er, Dorian - filled us in.”

“I saw you die, Bull,” Ariana said quietly. “You died so we could come back to the present and stop Corypheus. I saw Sera and Solas and Leliana die too. I… When I saw you all alive again… I don’t know. I felt so afraid and relieved that everything just seized up.”

Bull was silent, but didn’t move his hand. Neither of them said anything for a long while, just sitting in the silence, listening to each other breathe.

 

“Well,” Bull said finally. “I’m not planning on dying any time soon, Boss, so you don’t have to worry about me, or the others. You got enough shit to worry about already.”

“But you’re all my friends. I don’t want anything bad to happen to any of you.”

She glanced at up at him then, and saw a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re sweet, Boss. But right now, just worry about you. For example: go and get some fucking sleep.”

Ariana hesitated. “I had a nightmare. I don’t know if I can…”

“Hmm,” Bull said. “I could keep you company.”

“W-Wait, really?”

“Yeah. If you don’t wanna be alone, I can just sit in the room or whatever.”

“But aren’t you tired?” 

“I can sleep standing up, Boss. Gimme a chair? I'm practically sleeping in one of those fluffy Orlesian beds.”

“I wouldn't make you do that, Bull. I…" she hesitated, "I wouldn’t mind if you slept next to me. Actually, I don’t know if I can fall asleep alone right now.”

“Huh,” Bull said after a moment. His face was completely unreadable again. “If you’re fine with that, then sure. Let’s go get some shut eye.”

 

—

 

Ariana hadn’t slept in the same bed as another person since she was a child. She used to curl up next to her mother as a little girl, feeling safe in her warmth, secure in her scent and the way she ran her hands through Ariana’s hair. Then when she first came to the Circle, when she stopped talking for months and would run and hide and cry at the drop of a hat, one of the older mages would let Ariana curl up in her bed, would rub her back and whisper gentle kindnesses until Ariana drifted into sleep. 

 

Ariana wasn’t really sure how this sort of thing worked as an adult. Did friends sleep together for comfort? Wasn’t that only the domain of lovers? But Bull had been comforting her with touches and closeness for awhile now, so when she curled against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, it didn’t seem too odd to her. It felt natural, and his solid weight brought her enough peace to sleep.

 

So Ariana didn’t notice that his grip was tighter than usual, or the way he gazed down at her, or the way he clenched his jaw and squeezed his eye shut as he willed sleep to come to him as it had come to her.

 

—

 

_He was there in front of her, falling, falling, dark red blood gurgling from the slashes across his body. There was a sickening snapping sound as his horns smacked against the stones, and his eye stared at her, blank and empty. But she couldn’t reach him, couldn’t run, couldn’t_ move _…_

 

Ariana snapped awake to the glow of hazy light filtering through her bedchamber's cloudy glass windows. Early morning, then. She looked around the room hurriedly, and saw that she was alone.

“Bull?” she called out, her voice hoarse and strangled. She sat up, tangled in the sheets, her mark sparking. “Bull?!” she called, more urgently.

 

It was then that the bedroom door swung open, and Bull entered, carrying a tray laden with food. The sight of him made silent tears begin to slip down her cheeks, and she silently berated herself, hiding her face in the sheets.

“Hey,” Bull said quietly. He placed the tray on a nearby table and walked over to her calmly. He sat next to her on the bed and pulled her against his side.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered in a strained voice, wiping her eyes with her hands. “I had another nightmare, you died, and then you weren’t here and I—”

“Hey, hey, it’s all right. I just went to grab something to eat. I brought breakfast. Let’s go sit at the table, yeah? Nothing like a good meal to get your mind off shit.”

Ariana nodded, untangling herself from the sheets and padding over to the table. On the tray sat a loaf of dark, heavy brown bread, a large wedge of soft cheese, two apples, and a plate of sausages.

“This is from the kitchen here?” Ariana asked. 

“Uh-huh,” Bull answered as he picked up an apple and bit into it. “Might’ve been run by a bunch of crazy ‘Vints, but the ‘Vints at least know how to eat well. The servants are pretty relieved to be rid of ‘em.”

“I can imagine,” Ariana said, picking up the loaf of bread and cutting off a slice with the large serrated knife bull had brought with him. The bread was still warm, and when she bit into it, it tasted fresh and yeasty. 

“This is good,” she said with a smile on her face. “How’d you manage to get it?”

“There’s, uh, some weird misunderstanding that I’m your personal bodyguard, so the kitchen was very happy to give you the best. Also I flirted with one of the kitchen maids.”

Ariana giggled, her sadness beginning to melt away. “I mean, I technically did hire you as a bodyguard, so they’re not wrong."

“True,” Bull conceded with a smile. “But hey, whatever, I got us excellent food. For example, fresh apples. Not that old, floury shit.”

Ariana gasped, thinking of the last time she’d actually eaten a fresh apple. She reached for one of the ones Bull had brought, and bit into it, the tart sweetness filling her mouth.  
“You’re right! I can’t remember the last time I had an apple like this,” she sighed.

“See?” Bull said, smiling down at her softly, almost sadly. “Food. It fixes shit.”

 

—

 

Ariana and her companions stayed in Redcliffe for another week and a half, until the process of organising the mages to join the Inquisition progressed to the point where Ariana no longer needed to be there. 

The impact of the time travelling ordeal on Ariana didn't seem to lessen at all. Ariana would be doing something innocuous, like talking to other mages, reading over documents and letters, even eating or training, when she would suddenly find herself gripped with visions of angry, red lyrium surrounding her. It felt like the lyrium was right next to her, thrumming its sick song against her head. It made her knees give out and bile rise to her throat. At night, she would inevitably wake from nightmares of blood and death, and she would turn on her pillow and sob. 

Each night, she would try to hold, but eventually, she would go to Bull. After the third time she went to him, knocking gently on his door and silently begging him for comfort, he started slipping in her room without being asked. 

 

Even just lying next to him, feeling his warmth radiating off his body was enough to drive away the horrid dreams.

 

When they finally left Redcliffe to return to Haven, Ariana was deeply relieved to find that the visions and nightmares began to lessen as they moved away from the castle. Even so, Bull would still slip into Ariana's tent while everyone else slept or kept watch.

 

She tried not to think too hard about what this closeness meant. She only knew that it allowed her to feel some amount of peace, and that was enough for her to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In-game, the Inquisitor is not nearly traumatised enough after time travelling and seeing everyone dying and the world going to shit. So, I decided to fix it, because apparently I love making my fictional babies suffer :^)
> 
> I'm not really posting much on my DA-specific blog right now, so you can either find me there at skyholdfunk.tumblr.com, or at riseru.tumblr.com.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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